That I Am Not Afraid.

[Simon] He wasn't exactly the kind to be held back by the fact he was almost killed last night! Why would he let something silly like that actually stand in the way of his responsibilities? The full moon headed out of the apartment with a bag slung over his back and a baseball bat in hand.

It was strange, the sight of the full moon leaving the high priced building behind to head out on his rounds. He was an attractive young man, but that wasn't what stood out about him. What captured the attention was the aura of fury that seemed to radiate off him like a furnace. The coals of hatred were fed with each and every breath that he drew in. It was more than that, however, he was young. Youth was a dangerous thing, especially for such a dangerous creature. He had courage in spades, and he was more than eager to throw himself at whatever might stand in his way but he also lacked the control and finesse of older more experienced full moons. He was... Still learning to be the man he had the potential to be. But that potential was incredible indeed... Few would ever achieve it but those few who did...

The tattoos that covered his arms were beacons as well, informing the locals he was not one of them. Though beautiful in their own right they also told the locals that this frightening savage beast was not one of their own. He lacked the beauty and grace of the blue blooded. He was a ruffian, a threat, though to some he was also a forbidden temptation. Strong and full of youth... He was the brute, the quintessential alpha male. Aggressive, threatening, and proud.

He kept his senses peeled, and his attention forward, he honestly didn't have a destination. He was out to see the city, to learn it and maybe find himself a little trouble to get into? Whatever he was up to the world was little more than a curiosity. Full of all kinds of new discoveries.

[Imogen Slaughter] The city streets of Lakeview cover a gamut of possibilities. There are centralized blocks of bars and pubs and upscale restaurants. Beyond them in either direction there are more residential buildings followed by more main streets of more commercial buildings, frequently with mixed commercial and residential buildings. There is Lakeshore drive, following the lake, filled with high end homes which cost a fortune to own.

There are glass skyscrapers holding hundreds of businessmen and -women working their daily nine to five jobs. There are the less expensive neighbourhoods with row houses and squat old apartment buildings, lived in by lower-end business-people, and artists and some of the richer students.

Lakeview has it all - except for perhaps, easy to find parking.

She sits on a patio, though the weather is cooler than it has been, though the sky promises rain, with a cigarette in hand, a bottle of beer sitting on the table. She has a book in hand, her head bent to it, her cigarette tilted to avoid any ash-fall on the pages. She is an easily familiar figure, even after only one meeting. Pale skin, bright, vibrant hair the colour of flames, rarely found in nature. Diminutive stature, slender bones, a slight frame.

Though she might appear absorbed in her reading, she is not unaware of her surroundings. At one point, her gaze flicks up, around - and catches sight of Simon, patrolling (or is it merely exploring?) the city. Her gaze rests there, steady, unflinching, as she lifts her cigarette back to her lips, fitting the filter in her mouth and inhaling deeply, her eyes narrowing as the wind blows the smoke back.

[Imogen Slaughter] (thank you! *grin*)
to Simon

[Simon] (so is she seated at a public place? Or is this a residential area?)
to Imogen Slaughter

[Roman Turner] Chang-Ching. Chang-Ching. It was old fashioned sound of a bicycle bell. And sure enough, there was a rusting old red bicycle coming in Imogen's direction. It swerved around Simon in a wide arch before jumping the curve and nearly crashing with the rider's head whipped back towards Simon's direction. It took all the rider had to keep the bike upright.

"Holy Mary Mother of God!"

[Imogen Slaughter] (haaaah. Ahem. It might have been good for me to mention Imogen was at a pub. I meant to! sorry.)
to Simon

[Simon] Simon was born to human parents, he lived his life among humans, and if he was asked what he was he might occasionally slip up and describe himself as human yet he was attuned to his sense to a degree that few human born could begin to understand. Perhaps that unnatural connection had to do with relying upon himself so much, learning to trust his senses. The full moon lives a dangerous life... In fact he nearly died twice last week alone. His shirt hid the mostly healed wound from just last night. He didn't even allow that to slow him down, this is what he was created to do. To fight, and to kill...

In fact that is never more apparent in the man than the way he tenses at the sight of the oncoming cyclist. His hand clutches the bike and his eyes narrow. Each and every second passes in the full moons mind as an eternity as he scrolls through countless factors attempting to determine if the target was friend or foe. It was unlikely that many realized just what was going through his mind in that brief couple of seconds. Indeed in the time it took the bike to stop he had run through at least twelve different possible scenarios of how to dispatch the rider should it be determined he was a threat. His senses served him well, however, for just as quickly as they caught sight of roman they were able to assess that he was not a threat at all. The breeding of the stranger was just enough that he instantly recognized him for what he was.

Turning with Roman, his eyes never leaving and his lips curling into a smile he looks back at the man."Something wrong?"He asks softly and curiously.

[Simon] (sorry for the slow response had to adjust for Roman)
to Imogen Slaughter, Roman Turner

[Roman Turner] ((Just don't adjust Roman LOL!))
to Imogen Slaughter, Simon

[Simon] (His hand clutches the bat not the bike!)

[Roman Turner] He managed to stop without killing himself or wracking anything that would make him wish he'd died instead.

"Dag burn chain keeps slipping."

The chain had slipped gears in all the commotion but what had caused the near wreck had been him turning back for a look at all that rage. His own rage was such a meek thing that Imogen had asked him if he were Sparrow's Kinfolk the first time they met. Roman raided as much threat some Kin did. With his apparent youth (age 16) and wholesome looks, he found blending in most places fairly easy as long as it was age appropriate. Bars he had a problem with.

Right now he smiled at Simon, still straddling the bike and he canted his head.

"Howdy."

Each word was accented and one might expect the next word to be "Y'all."

[Imogen Slaughter] Her posture changes slightly as Roman whips around Simon, and Simon tenses, his hands tightening around the bat. She straightens a little, her weight moves to her feet, encased in modestly heeled shoes. She sets down the book, but keeps the cigarette.

The bike careens dangerously, coming gracelessly off over the curb as Roman whips his head around shouting a rather religious epithet, and then Simon says something that the redhaired kinwoman cannot hear.

The bicyclist - Roman, though the kinwoman does not recall this - comes to a stop, and the Garou engage in what appears to be civil conversation. The kinwoman leans back slightly again, picking up her beer bottle as she extends her other hand, tapping cigarette ash into the tray provided.

[Roman Turner] He had spotted that red hair and it was all he could do not to keep glancing in Imogen's direction. Crisp Wrangler jeans, a clean gray tee and cowboy boots were his outfit. Chestnut colored hair was tossed around from riding and his denim blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he eyed the bat and Simon.

"Going to a game or something?"

As far as visible, he had no tattoos or any markings showing. Where he grew up, he was too young to legally get a Tat and he apparently lacked the need for one to hold a fetish weapon.

[Simon] His eyes go to the bike and then back to the man, and once more to the bike again."You should look into getting that fixed, you don't want those things slipping in traffic or worse..."He trails off though he does manage to smile."You thought about getting it in to a repair shop?"He asks and gestures by pointing the bat."We should get that thing outta the street and take a look at it."

He wasn't about to point out the fact he nearly hit the young man. If Roman recognized him for what he was then Roman would know full well that there might have been a hint of tension there for a split second or two. But the Garou often lived in that space between each second where typically only soldiers and the occasional police officer go. In the life of a true born a second was an eternity.

He laughs at the question then nods."Yeah, sorta. Never know really... I like to come prepared."He adds.

[Roman Turner] "Well I suppose a game could come up."

Apparently as unknowing as they came.

He glanced down at the bike as he started to push it towards the distant redhead with her beer and book. Cocking his head in that direction.

"It was cheap, got it in a yard sale, one day I'll get it fixed if I'm around that long. But for now, I am thinking that pretty lady needs two guys to keep her company and help her with her beer. Whatcha think?"

He grinned that big ole innocent grin of his, full of youth, trust and as easy going as a puppy. Roman wasn't a big guy, he was a little under five and a half feet and nothing about him said be afraid.

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen, for her part has returned her attention to her book, her cigarette, the level of her beer dropped a little from a recent swallow.

The Garou are at the edge of her attention - but little else, while they converse just outside of her hearing.

[Simon] He found his eyes flickering in the direction of Imogen when she was mentioned. His smile grew a little, the woman from the other night who he hadn't had the chance to speak to all that much. He nodded his head and slipped his eyes back to Roman."Might as well keep her company for a bit. Can't hurt to make a few new friends in town now can it?"

He gestured for Roman to lead. After all he had only been introduced to Imogen once before. Roman appeared to know her a little better so he let him handle that much.

[Roman Turner] "By the by."

He stuck out one hand to Simon while keeping the bike upright with the other and his hip.

"I'm Roman Turner."

[Simon] "Simon Zahradnik, it's nice to meet you roman. I bumped into one of yours last night... I wonder how she is. Umm Kelly or Jenny or something. You know how she is?"He asks Roman curiously. Taking the hand and gripping it firmly for a shake.

He begins towards Imogen's table, his eyes shifting from Roman to drink the kin in once more. He remembered how she affected him the other night, she and Karls mate. Not that his intentions were anything less than innocent, but there were some people who were just a little harder to forget than others.

[Roman Turner] "No sir, can't say that I know a Kelly or Jenny."

He shook the hand firmly and once more pushed the bike towards that patio to rest it against the enclosure when he got there. And when he got there he was all smiles for Imogen.

"Howdy Miss Doctor Slaughter, Ma'am. This here is Simon Zahradnik."

Indicating the other guy.

[Imogen Slaughter] Imogen sits on the patio of a pub, a slight raised deck made of wood and rimmed by a railing complete with carved balustrades.

She is not the only one out-of-doors - though she is the only one in her corner, the other patrons who brave the cooler, overcast weather congregated at the opposite corner, a group of rowdy twenty-something males, a couple, both blond, fit and dressed in name-brand attire, sunglasses hiding their eyes as they talk about - whatever it is that which perfect blond people discuss.

Roman is bright smiles and cheerfulness as he approaches Imogen's table, the kinwoman glancing up slightly as she catches sight of the two Garou passing out of the corner of her eye. She looks up as they approach, and her eyebrow lifts upward as Roman speaks.

"Three titles, now, is it?" says the Englishwoman dryly, her mouth making no movement to echo Roman's happy smile, "do me a favour 'nd make sure yeh tell me what I need t'do so tha' yeh don't add a fourth."

Her attention moves toward Simon as she shuts her book, setting it face down on the table, and reaches for her cigarette, burning quietly in its ashtray. "We've met, I believe," a flick of her gaze toward the weapon the Lord carries in one hand. "I recall the bat."

[Roman Turner] "Well, if you don't want a fourth, don't ask for it. As I recall, Ma'am. Ya went from Ma'am, to Miss Slaughter and then ya added Doctor. So now you are Miss Doctor Slaughter. Unless ya want me to call ya something else, Ma'am?"

He was all wide-eyed innocence as he waited for Imogen to load his arsenal with another title.

[August Grant] The smell of the grease and promised food goodness lingered in the air near the pub. Mm.. and that was like a beacon for the very hungry pregnant girl. She went the few blocks out of her way until she spotted the sign above the door. And yes, it smelled even better the closer she got.

Thus, sweet.. innocent little August stood outside of the pub for a moment before wandering inside. She was an attractive, twenty-something young woman, quite obviously pregnant with blonde hair and bright hazel eyes. Her lips were glossed with a light pink shade which glittered just slightly. She was dressed in a light coat, it might be chilly.. but.. sixty was so much warmer than thirty, so she'd take it!

A moment later, a waitress ushered her out onto the patio where she sat in a table near by, alone. August sat and graciously took the menu from the woman.

[Simon] He nods back to Roman, and offers a smile to the cheerful character. It was someone who he hadn't met before but he seemed okay enough. Certainly more agreeable than some he has met about town. Then again Simon could be quite abrasive to some himself.

He nods back to Imogen when he is addressed and he can't help but part his lips as if to say something in regards to the bat. He even lifts it a little but changes his mind and simply nods once more. His bag is slipped from his shoulders and he finds a few straps which he uses to fasten the bat to his bag before settling it before him."Roman and I were having a little chat. He seems like good people so far. Anyway, he suggested we head on over and say our hellos and all that..."He taps his tongue against his canine in thought before gesturing towards a seat."Mind if we join you?"

His eyes flicker to the rowdy males not too far from them. He takes a few seconds to look them over cautiously before turning back. The foolish might be quick to toss young Simon into that very same category. indeed in some ways there were some similarities. There were, however, some grave and important differences between your average young male and your average young Ahroun. The stench of death hovered around this male, even if it wasn't physical he had smelled it enough that it never left his nostrils. No matter how often he bathed himself, that stench had burned itself into his memories.

Youth took an entirely different meaning when the young man in question was an experienced killer.

[Roman Turner] He was all locked on Imogen, waiting for her response when August and her swollen belly sat nearby. He glanced that way and looked back again, blinking several times before letting out a low whistle.

"Well howdy now, look at that."

Breeding and one he knew, though he couldn't recall meeting the woman before and he wondered if his Cousin had.

[Imogen Slaughter] A flicker of a smirk crosses Imogen's mouth as Simon starts to say something - then stops, regarding the bat. It's little more than a spasm at the edge of her mouth.

"Be my guest," Imogen says, gesturing toward the chairs briefly with her cigarette.

Simon, as an Ahroun must be accustomed to a few things - one is the fear or at least discomfort of others in his presence. Even kinfolk fidget in the presence of his rage, and there are Garou who keep their eye on him as if waiting for him to come apart at the seams, the rage pouring from the rents.

Imogen looks him in the eye; she does not flinch from him, she appears unafraid, entirely, in his presence. She does not even appear to be slightly discomforted.

Roman's grin now, expectant for Imogen to add to his arsenal causes the kin to frown, just slightly, as much a spasm as her smirk had been, there then gone, replaced by something resembling amusement.

"I don't believe you need t'call me anything else. It takes yeh a full minute to get it all out as it is."

He whistles, and she turns, glancing toward August who has come out, pregnant and hungry to sit by herself. The doctor's fine features are unreadable, neutral as she studies the other kinfolk. "She's kin," she offers, absently, "I don't know which tribe."

[August Grant] A finger came to rest upon her bottom lip. Her nail was painted a precious pink. She appeared to be thinking quite hard on what to order. The menu was flipped over.. and over. Oh, choices.. choices!

After a moment, she appeared to have decided, as the menu was set down. She was smiling slightly to herself.. and at one point, her gaze flicked up towards those gathered here.. and it just happened to linger Roman's way as he looked over.

August gave him a slightly shy.. yet polite smile before she glanced away. Simon got a second look, however. She quite clearly remembered him from her encounter with him at the Brotherhood involving the cake!

[Roman Turner] His smile widened and for a moment it seemed all his attention was towards August even as he muttered to Imogen.

"She feels like my family. Ain't positive, but think so. Excuse me a moment."

That quick the kid was heading towards the pregnant woman to stop at her table with a polite smile.

"Howdy Ma'am, we ain't met but there's something kind of familiar about you. I don't meant to invade your privacy and I sure ain't offering nothing for your baby's daddy to be upset about. Just came over to say howdy and let ya know, I'm Roman Turner, my cousin and I are very likely Kin of your Kin somewhere along the line."

[Simon] He found himself meeting Imogen's gaze right back. She met his eyes directly, was that a challenge, or something else? He kept direct eye contact for some time watching her back and she might feel that slight stir within him. He was curious now, in fact he was suspicious of the woman's response to him especially when so many others would simply choose to avoid any and all eye contact.

Her offer gets him pulling a chair out and he appeared about to take a seat when Roman's comment pulls his eyes away. The breaking of eye contact was not a sign of surrender or defeat in this case but rather a reflexive reaction to have a look at whatever it was that had captivated Roman so. August got a bit of a smile in return."Her name is August, she brings cake if you're really good."He watches August and even looks her over for two or three quiet ticks of the clock but as Roman diverts to introduce himself he nods. She was his kin so he would let them speak privately if they wished.

His eyes meet Imogen's back soon enough. Drawing out his chair and taking a seat. He watched her quietly with those focused piercing brown eyes."You have been around a while I take it?"He asks her curiously, a vague hint of interest or curiosity. The woman had his curiosity piqued. The warrior put aside his claws and teeth and instead embraced an emotion that was all too often driven from full moons at a young age... Curiosity.

[Roman Turner] He waited, cocking his head before waving his hand in front of August face to see if she were awake.

"Ma'am?"

[August Grant] He was young.. she could tell. Perhaps she shouldn't have smiled at him like that - she didn't to lead the young man on or anything. Ah, but now wasn't the time to be rude. Not that August was the rude sort anyway. No, she was a sweetheart and that positive kind energy just radiated off of her like a brilliant light.

When the young man mentioned the 'baby's daddy'.. she glanced down at a moment. Was she that fat? Well.. no.. but well.. she just couldn't hide it anymore she supposed. Soon enough, her attention was back up on the young man.

"Well hello Roman. I'm August.. and it's a pleasure to meet you." She even offered out a slender hand. "Oh? Perhaps long lost family? Well.. if you are familiar with Lila then perhaps we are kin."

[Roman Turner] "Not sure about a Lila, but I am Sparrow's cousin."

He reached out and took her hand, shaking it before letting go. She smelled good in a pregnant sort of way, which unfortunately, he could smell just like he could smell other cycles and such in a female's body.

"I wasn't trying to be rude about...ya know."

He looked down at her stomach.

"Just thought I should make it clear up front I weren't intruding on another's claim."

[Imogen Slaughter] Her eyes are dark - with the setting sun and the overcast clouds leaving little illumination to the irides. There's a certain quality to the darkness; the same kind of blackness you might see in the night sky, between the stars. Or at the deepest point of twilight. Her eyes, perhaps, are blue, when the light hits them right. Now, they appear to be nearly black, sharply and starkly dark rimmed with copper lashes and set in a pale, finely carved face.

Roman excuses himself and heads for August, and Simon asks a curious question.

Imogen crushes out the cigarette in the ashtray, turning her head as she exhales smoke, the poison scattering in the wind which ruffles her vibrant, upswept hair. She does not answer immediately, her expression neutral, her body language remote.

Finally, simply, and without adornment: "Yes." After half a beat, she adds, "Particularly by a full-blood's standard."

She reaches out to pick up her beer bottle, lifting it up to her lips for a swallow before saying, "And you, not all that long, I take it."

[August Grant] Brows furrowed just slightly. Sparrow.. Sparrow.. OH! Her smile brightened. "Oh, Sparrow.. yes. I've met her. She's got a great heart.. I'd love to see her again. And, if you're a cousin and friend of her - then you're a friend of mine."

The waitress headed in her direction.. but clearly was having second thoughts with Roman so close. However, observant August caught sight of her.. and simply lifted the menu and pointed at what she wanted. Nothing was going to stop her from getting some dang food tonight. She was sooooo hungry! The waitress just smiled and went to put her order in.

August's attention went back towards Roman. Her smile faultered for the briefest of moments. "Uh.. the baby is mine. The father has no claim over it.. and I'm not offically claimed.. so there is no need to worry about offending anyone except me."

[Roman Turner] He waited till the waitress came and went, though his rage was a low thing, something that just tickled the more sensitive, still he remained silent till the woman was gone. Then he smiled at August.

"Well my name is Roman Turner and I'm cousins with Sparrow Turner. We ain't been here that long, so there's plenty I don't know."

He spoke with the drawl of Kansas in every word. And when August said the baby was her's, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm sorry, never even crossed my mind ya might be carrying someone's child other than your own."

And he sure wasn't going to go in to Garou rights over their offspring, not with a pregnant Kinfolk. Instead he held his smile as steady as he could.

"I imagine then your family claims responsibility for you and your child."

[August Grant] She chuckled a little bit as his comment about her carrying someone elses child. Alright.. she could easily see how he could misunderstand her meaning. A slender hand came to rub that little belly.

"Oh Roman.. my story and what not is so much more complicated than that."

[Simon] He leans forward, not so much towards Imogen, as much as finding a position where he can rest his chin on his hands and smile back at the woman. Her answer does bring forth a smile and he nods his head."We do have this terrible tendency to get ourselves killed at a young age don't we?"The question was rhetoric, more an agreement with her statement.

"It all depends on the standard by which we are judging. I'm certainly new to the area though. Fresh meat if you wanna call it that."He chuckles to himself as if there were something funny in what he said that only he got.

"It's not common to meet a woman who so readily meets your gaze so directly. Either she has spent quite a bit of time dealing with us, or she is suicidal. You're not exactly fresh out of the box anymore so I am going to guess that it's got more to do with personal experience... Perhaps a mate?"He asks with a tilt to his head. He was analyzing her, trying to pick her apart, and figure her out in the same way a child might disassemble a computer to see how it worked. Indeed the gleam in those eyes implied he might be doing just that if such behavior were acceptable.

[Roman Turner] He watched her rub her belly like that, and though his personal experience with pregnant women was null, he did his best to not to stare. Children were precious and it seemed less and less of them came about as the years progressed.

"Lot's of things are complicated, but ya should know there's always relations around to help with complications."

He grinned with a wiggle of his brows.

"Or to cause them."

[Imogen Slaughter] His rhetorical question brings no answering smile, but instead, an unnecessary answer: "Yes," she says, a muscle moving along her jaw. "You do."

The next question brings a stillness to her expression, it might be entirely expressionless except for the fact it can chill the bones.

"I am no longer sure what the Nation defines me as," she says evenly. "And could not particularly care as to the answer. But there is a Garou called Silence at the Sept o' the Stormhammer who could likely answer th'question, if you could find him."

A sharp edged beat.

"I have been around yer kind fer years. You've all lost th'power t'frighten me on first meetings."

[Imogen Slaughter] (sorry that took so long! I had to make a phone call.)
to Simon

[August Grant] "That's why I'm in Chicago.. to get away from complicated things.. and to meet more family which can help with things. And no.. I don't need any more complicated things in my life.." She grinned and chuckled, obviously thinking his comment was amusing.

"Roman.. are you hungry? I ordered a ton of food.. I probably can't eat it all."

[Roman Turner] "No ma'am, it was right nice of ya to ask though. I gotta push my bike back and hurry off to duty. Ya know how that goes. But I hope to see ya again and if ya need something, I hope ya give us a yell."

He smiled again with a wink before stepping away. Then he waved to Imogen and Simon.

"I gotta rush off. Hope to see y'all again soon."

He headed for the bike to push it down the sidewalk.

[August Grant] "Goodbye Roman.. it was nice to meet you."

[Simon] He tilts his head curiously."You are defined by this Silence?"He asks her, a shift of his head a watchful eye scanning over her face oh so slowly. Her eyes, her nose, her ears, the way her hair frames her face."You don't appear to me the kind who would allow herself to be defined by another..."The corner of his lip curls up slightly forming a smirk as a soft exhale implies he found the tiniest hint of humor in the comment.

"Seems to be a common sickness in this city."He shrugs his shoulders."Fear is a survival mechanism. It teaches us when we need to run, and when we need to be wary. It teaches us how to survive..."He shrugs his shoulders and glances down at the table, breaking eye contact for a second or two before snapping his eyes back to her own."I live my life in a constant state of fear. Heart racing, eyes and ears constantly shifting at the tiniest noise... We all feel fear... Only the stupid are void of fear, the stupid and the dead. You are neither of those things."He breathes in deeply as if scenting the air. His eyes locked upon hers.

"It wouldn't make sense if you no longer felt fear around us. It would simply mean you've lived with it so long you've learned to cope with it... Accept it, and no longer let it trouble you."He smiles a little."And that, that makes you dangerous. When you can look past the fear and think with a clear head because it no longer troubles you."

[Imogen Slaughter] The red haired doctor's eyebrow arches. "That I am not afraid of you," she says quietly, "does not mean that I am not afraid of the things which should frighten me.

"You'll ha' to excuse me," she gets to her feet, reaching for her handbag. She pulls out the cash to cover her drink and drops it on the table. "I find this kind of conversation rather tiresome.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening."

[Simon] He watches her stand without pulling his eyes from her. His grin remaining and never leaving. He had said something to upset her or offend her. That wasn't uncommon for the kin around this place, all he could do was shrug his shoulders."Suit yourself. I am not about to stop you, you take care of yourself."He adds before nodding his head back to her."I fully intend to enjoy myself thank you for the suggestion I will certainly take it to heart. You enjoy yourself as well."

[August Grant] Roman had left. August's meal had arrived. It was a pile of french fries and chicken fingers.. and a lemonade. Quickly enough.. the kin began to dig in.

After Simon's company had decided to depart, she glanced up and gave Simon a little wave.