hurting or hurt.

[Penelope] It's a horribly crappy part of town, this one. Abandoned buildings everywhere. Homeless guys with crazy hair banging on pots and trying to communicate with rodents.

It's not the kind of place young women should be wandering around in at night. Not alone, anyway. Not without an escort.

Penny Xenakis has nothing to worry about, though. No one tries to get close to her. No one leaps from the shadows and tries to steal a purse or drag her away by the hair. No one looks at her and thinks Target acquired.

She walks with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, humming the melody of some song by The Pretenders. She's at a distance when she catches sight of Gregory. She can't stop the laugh that escapes when the man walking past abruptly halts in his tracks.

Picking up the pace, she hurries over to join them. Well, to join him, the one playing to the mice. As she gets closer, though, she slows down, her attention going to the Silver Fang. She looks at him like she recognizes him, or something about him.

"Yo," she greets oh so elegantly. Then she looks at Gregory. "What are you doing?"

[Thirty Second Silence] The pot when silent with a schopploonging sound as the wooden spoon went lax in Gregory's hand. His head lifted and his eyes turned towards the alley entrance. The rodents scampered, in a shriek of uncertainty they bolted off into their little hidey holes, disappearing to little ratty whore houses of their own, to sip ratty drinks and tell ratty tales.

Gregory suddenly stood up, his leather soled shoes scrapping upon the grime covered concrete. He tucked the wooden spoon into the back pack which rested on the steps beside him. Lowering the pot to the steps he stood back up straight. His cheeks sucking in wards before he took a deep breath.

When pen pens had greeted him, he hadn't responded straight away. His attention was on that of the silver fang.

A moment passed, a thirty second silence.

His voice was whiney and raspy. "Lieutenant Ripley, nice of you to join me" He shot her a quick grin before returning his gaze back to the SF. "You see him? Course you did, wanna go say hello? Hows it going? What brings your princely ass down to the village?" His face was splitting into a slight laugh by the end of the statement.

[Christian del Piero] The Silver Fang is young. He can't be old enough to drink yet, or if he is, he must be asked for his driver's license every time he does. Unless, of course, he approaches the vendor the way that he is now...that is, angry. It's the sort of anger you can feel in your skin when he sits down next to you.

Penelope ought to be afraid of him. It's become a certainty in his life...if a person is normal, if she's human, she won't talk to him. Humans avoid his eyes and stammer when they talk to him. This woman doesn't.

"Hi."

When he looks up, the man with the pot is watching him. It isn't just for a few seconds, either, it's half a minute, and the entire time the Fang watches him, too. His gaze gets harder the longer no one says anything. Then he's asked what brings him here.

"The culture and hospitality of the commoners," he says.

[Penelope] Penny doesn't interrupt that thirty-seconds of silence. She waits and she watches the tension increase in the Fang as the silence drags on, and on. She's seen it before, and she thinks This ought to be good.

Then the silence breaks. Lieutenant Ripley grins, lifting her brows. Of course she saw the Silver Fang, and now she's waiting to see if he's going to be goodnatured or if someone's about to get their nose broken. Especially after that last comment.

Rage lashes out from the impetuous young Ahroun, and these two strangers watch him, one smiling one laughing, totally impervious.

"Yeah?" She makes a point of looking down at his shoes. "I don't see any spit. Isn't that how commoners say hello to people like your royal royalness?"

[Thirty Second Silence] His grin widened at the retort from the Silver Fang, his scrawny neck tilting, returning the stare.

"You hear that Penny? Culture and hospitality. Do we have some of that lying around? I'll find some of that for you man, honestly I will, if I can't I'll find someone who CAN." He grinned at the man, hoping to break the terrible tension in the air.

Then he stepped forward bravely, his small hand outstretched towards the stranger.

"Gregory Thomas, Thirty Second Silence, Gnawer cliath theurge."

It was perhaps presumptuous, but this fellow had surely noted that they didn't shy away from him. They didn't run scampering like Gregory's rodent symphony, why play a boring game?

[Robbie Murdoch] [do me a favor and stick "playtest!" in your tag!]
to Erika Irina Alexander

[Christian del Piero] The Fang either has the world's dryest sense of humor, or he doesn't have one, period. If he didn't have one at all, they would not be extending hands to shake like humans. They'd be throwing fists. It doesn't come to that. The two Garou return the heckling, and then the Theurge grins at the Ahroun. There is no reflection in the kid's face. The air around him is electric. He looks at the outstretched hand as if he has been handed a rat instead.

After a long breath, he clasps his hand.

"Christian del Piero. Cliath Full Moon of Falcon." It's a short introduction for a Silver Fang.

[Penelope] Penny doesn't do something so human as offer her hand to shake. She stands there with her hands in her pockets, perhaps a little disappointed. No beatdowns tonight. No stories to share later about how so-and-so punched Gregory in the throat.

Oh well, there will always be other nights and other Garou.

She grins at the younger Full Moon.

"Penelope Xenakis, Kiss With a Fist. Cliath Black Fury Ahroun."

[Thirty Second Silence] Gregory shook the Silver Fangs hand, a sparkle in his eye. He was shaking a Silver Fangs hand, a Silver Fang Ahroun. Excellent. After a few seconds he released the grip and plunged it into his jacket pocket.

"Well, now that introductions are all out of the way.. Whos buying me dinner?" He made puppy dog eyes at Penny.

"Because let me tell you, I'm hungry. I'm so hungry I could eat a water dwelling mammal." He says matter of factly.

Of course he could go back to that little alley way entrance he had wandered through the previous night. Find some more of those probably delicious leftovers. Maybe set up a little campsite next to the fridge. But the thought of being punched in the throat again by an angry Fostern made him slightly apprehensive.

Plus there were protocols, rules to abide by, respects to be paid. It was all rather tiresome.

[Christian del Piero] So far the only thing anyone has seen Christian hit is the window of a car. If he's actually hauled off and clocked another person, he hasn't done it in front of anyone who was going to spread rumors about it. Guys like him are the sort to get into rows for no particular reason...he just has that look about him.

Introductions are finished, and he can't get his hand back fast enough. Penelope doesn't offer to shake hands herself, and neither does Christian. That seems alright with him. He's thoroughly distracted by Gregory, who he's watching like an anthropologist encountering his first gorilla. It's as though he doesn't know what to do with him now that beating him up has been tabled.

[Penelope] As soon as Gregory asks, Penny leans back and her eyes widen. Don't look at me but then he does. And he makes the eyes. She rolls her own.

"You always say that. Man," this is directed at Christian, and she has this look about her like she's going to lean in close, maybe rest her elbow on his shoulder and whisper like they're co-conspirators in something. She doesn't, though, only leans a little in his direction. "Don't save this guy's life, you'll wind up with the most annoying clinger ever."

There's almost affection in that. Almost.

"Alright alright," she says, "stop making that FACE. What's even open this late?"

[Thirty Second Silence] His eyes went wide at penny's comment and he took on a look of mock-hurt.

"I was totally fine with those things! I had it under control. And if I remember correctly it was you who needed rescuing in the end. Oh Helen, how love has twisted your memory of events."

He returned his gaze back to Christian and stepped a little closer to the man. Just to see what he would do. His eyebrows raised and he his nostrils flared slightly, a gorilla in the mist, come to inspect this stranger, this intruder into his forest dwellings.

"We could go back THERE" He made suggestive eyes at Penny. "But only if you guys totally have my back if Sinclair shows up again."

Of course penny had been told about the story, about sinclair, about the offensive comments and throat punching/foreplay. Christian on the other hand would likely have no idea what or where he was talking about.

[Christian del Piero]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4 (Failure at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] ((YES LOL))

[Christian del Piero] ((LOL!))

[Christian del Piero] When Christian introduced himself, he didn't give every known Garou relative dating back to the 1700s. He said nothing about a pack, and mentioned no kinfolk being under his protection or claimed as a mate. He's young enough that he might have no clue about how he's supposed to present himself to the rest of the nation. What he didn't say was that he was alone.

Penelope only leans closer as she shares wisdom about the Gnawer with Christian. Her friend, though, actually takes a step. The Ahroun reacts immediately...he grits his teeth, puts a hand on Gregory's shoulder, and pushes him back. The warning comes without words.

[Thirty Second Silence] ((flaw irrational outbursts))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] 2am's late, and Robbie's tired. Unfortunately, Robbie's also lost. The moon is down. The sky is too overcast for stars. He's on foot, and he's not entirely certain where the Brotherhood is.

Which makes him glad to see the small knot of Garou across the street. At least he suspects they're Garou. The Fang definitely is; breeding drips off of him. The others? Well. They weren't running the other way.

Robbie doesn't run the other way either. After a glance both ways for traffic, he steps into the street and trots across, long limbs agile and light on the tread. He comes up on the opposite curb with a bit of a bound. "Hey," he says, "you guys mind if I -- "

That's when the Fang shoves the scrawny looking one back from him. And Robbie's mouth closes, his eyes wary now, flickering from face to face.

[Penelope] When Penny and Greg introduced themselves, there was no mention of pack. Neither of them said they were alpha over the other, or that they were connected by anything more mystical than a briefly mentioned altercation. In which one or both of them had needed saving.

Penny scoffs. At Gregory being fine, or at needing rescuing herself, or both. "Love hasn't twisted my memory of anything," she retorts. It sounds like an old argument.

And she knows the story of Sinclair and what happened at that place. She'd laughed. He may be looking to her now for some assistance, maybe to talk the other Ahroun down. What he gets instead is a look from the Black Fury, one that clearly says

You had that coming.

They're joined by the lost Fiann, he starts to cut in and stops. Penny just smiles at him.

"You might want to take a step back. This could be messy."

[Thirty Second Silence] He was pushed, no he was SHOVED. He went staggering back a few steps from the obviously stronger silverfang. But the look in his eyes was one of wild contempt. He couldn't control it, at least not completely. It was what got him into trouble back home, it was what got him into trouble in every damn place he ever visited. It was inevitable.

"Hey man! Not coooool! Why don't you take that silver spooned hand and shove it up your ass, we dont need no weather man to know which way the wind blows around here!"

Look out kid, its something you did... god knows when but you're doing it again....

[Robbie Murdoch] The look on Robbie's face is best summarized as:

O_O

He holds his tongue. He takes a step back. He waits for shit to hit the fan.

[Christian del Piero] (( Dex+Wits = 6, +... ))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 6

[Thirty Second Silence] [init +6]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Thirty Second Silence] ((HAHAHA))

[Thirty Second Silence] [1a: Punch. Go go!]

[Christian del Piero] ((1a/1b: Punch.
1 Rage: Punch!))

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6, -2 first split ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 6, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 4, 7 (Failure at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] ((LOL!))

[Thirty Second Silence] ((NICE ONE!))

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6, -3 second split ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6) [WP]

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength + 2 - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 6, 8, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] ((Soak stam))
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] [punch! dex+brawl -1]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] [dmg str+1 -1]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 5, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] ((EAT IT))

[Christian del Piero] (( Stamina - Soak ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 3, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] ((sadface))

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength + 2 - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[Penelope] [hahahahahaaha!]

[Christian del Piero] ((LMAO! Bloody hell!))

[Thirty Second Silence] [1a: punch!]

[Christian del Piero] ((1a/1b: Punch!
2 Rage: More Punch!))

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6, -2 first split ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength + 1 - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] ((soak -1))
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6, -3 second split ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 1, 2, 4 (Botch x 1 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] ((MY BAD DOESNT MATTER))

[Christian del Piero] ((...that doesn't sound good.))

[Penelope] [1-3: Penny, 4-6: Robbie, 7-9: Christian somehow, 10: re-roll]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 8

[Penelope] [sorry Robbie!]

[Penelope] [er, Christian!]

[Christian del Piero] ((So I'm rolling damage on myself, then a soak?))

[Penelope] [change of plans! Roll the damage, Robbie soak!]

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 4, 4 (Failure at target 6)

[Penelope] [awwww]

[Robbie Murdoch] "...what the fuck!"

Out of nowhere, a punch comes flying toward innocent bystander Robbie. Just like that color flashes into his cheeks; his eyes spark with anger. The Fianna stiff-arms the Fang back.

[inits! +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 10

[Thirty Second Silence] ((good to roll my turn or any other little gems?))

[Thirty Second Silence] [punch! dex+brawl - 1]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Thirty Second Silence] [dmg str]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 6, 6 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Stamina - Soak ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 7 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Penelope] [Christian, roll your rage, Robbie will be in on the next round]

[Christian del Piero] ((What's the difficulty?))

[Penelope] [if he's still punching Gregory, normal diff. It's +1 to change to Robbie]

[Christian del Piero] ((The difficulty on the Rage roll?))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 4, 4, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] ((Right, sorry about that!

Dexterity + Brawl = 6, +1 diff to change to Robbie))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 3, 3, 5, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength + 1 - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Penelope] [Robbie soak!]

[Robbie Murdoch] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Penelope] [Christian: 2nd Rage action, go!]

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6 , +1 diff ))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6, 6, 9 (Failure at target 7)

[Penelope] [new round init order:
Robbie
Christian
Gregory
declare in reverse!]

[Thirty Second Silence] [1a: grope penny!]

The silver fang had suddenly turned, seemingly bored with his current prey and had instead turned on the new comer Robbie. Well that was a victory in Gregory's books. "See that shit! I hit him good!"

[Christian del Piero] ((1: Punch Robbie.
2 Rage: Punch!))

[Robbie Murdoch] Robbie's stiffarming -- his version of a polite watch your step, perhaps -- is returned with a rather vicious punch that lashes his head to the side. It doesn't seem to take, though. The Fianna turns back, eyes set and gleaming now.

The instigator of all this chaos steps back. Two man fight becomes a three man, and three man goes back to two. The Fianna, significantly taller, rail-thin and quick, uses his height -- and the boniness of his elbows -- to their best advantage.

[1a. elbow to the nose!
b. punch!
R1. body tackle!]

[Robbie Murdoch] [shit! i'm really sorry about delays, guys. i'm reinstalling windows here]

[Robbie Murdoch] [monki -- wanna set a roll/effect for elbowing to the nose?]

[Penelope] [roll dex + brawl diff 7 (like a kick/headbutt), no damage modifier but if he gets 2+ suxx after soak Christian is effectively blinded for one round, sound fair?]

[Robbie Murdoch] [good nuff for me! rolling! -2]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7) Re-rolls: 1

[Robbie Murdoch] [dam +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 6, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Stamina - Soak ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] b. simple punch!
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 6, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [dam +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 7 (Failure at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6 ))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength + 1 - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 2, 3, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] R1. body tackle! part one.
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 4, 4, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Robbie Murdoch] [part two - dam +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 8, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [part three - ath to stay on feet! Perfect Balance merit for -2 diff.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 (Success x 4 at target 4) Re-rolls: 1

[Christian del Piero] (( Stamina - Soak ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Athletics = 6, +3 diff ))
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 2, 2, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 2 at target 9)

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6, -2 health ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 8, 8, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Strength + 1 - Bashing ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 3, 4, 7, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 6, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Christian del Piero] (( Dexterity + Brawl = 6, -2 health ))
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 3, 5, 6 (Failure at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] Robbie's a quiet creature. Doesn't say much. Normally reserved, retiring, a little socially awkward. Almost shy.

It's almost shocking to see how suddenly and viciously he throws himself into the fight. And frankly, how practiced he seems to be at this sort of thing. Knockdown dragout fight on the streets. Or it would be, if any of them knew him at all -- which they don't.

Fine first impression this is, then. Elbows and fists fly. A second later he's throwing himself headlong at the Fang, slamming him back against the nearest wall. Both men keep their feet: effortless for the Fianna; sheer will and tenacity for the Fang. Three hits to the face have barely seemed to put a dent in the lanky Galliard. Robbie brushes a lean hand under his nose, sniffs back moisture or blood, and then jabs two fingers in Christian's direction.

"I don't know what ya problem is brotha," that one word and the paradoxically inimical connotations of it nails his origins utterly: working class boston area. "I never started no fight with you but god help me I'll end it if ya push me."

[Penelope] Gregory steps into the space of a rage-mad Ahroun, is pushed back, and mouths off. Penny doesn't step in when Christian starts swinging. And she doesn't step in when a poorly aimed punch veers for the Fiann instead of the Gnawer. When Robbie joins the fray, she just steps calmly to the side. For a Full Moon, she's fairly mellow, and she has no desire to simply leap into a brawl for the fun of it.

At least, not today. The moon is only halved tonight, her rage isn't riding just beneath the surface, ready to burst out of her. She's not looking for an outlet for the violence living beneath her breast.

She laughs when Gregory steps back and over to her. "You did, congrats," she says, clapping him on the shoulder and giving him a friendly shake. Watching the others, though, the Ahroun and the Fiann, she says, "They look like they'll be at it for a while. What do you say we go find ourselves an all night diner or something?"

[Christian del Piero] It's almost as if the kid has never been in a fight before. His original opponent walks off with nary a spot of blood on him, and the larger Fiann only gets involved because a wild punch completely misses its target. He's young enough, undisciplined enough, that fighting is as natural to him as breathing. He doesn't have control of himself on a good night. Tonight wasn't a good night.

If there is a silver lining here, it's that beating at two Garou he's never met before has drained his anger down to the dregs. He almost feels human, now, even though he's soundly beaten. Pain throbs in places where unfamiliar fists connected with his flesh, and even though the fight went on for several minutes, he isn't gasping for breath. He doesn't hold places that hurt. He glares, though, at the Galliard who stiff-armed him a moment ago.

"You," he clarifies, "pushed me."

[Robbie Murdoch] Robbie blinks, flabbergasted for a second.

"You punched me!"

[Thirty Second Silence] Gregory decides to interrupt here.

"Actually you pushed ME too."

[Penelope] "I think that was an accident," Penny chimes in when it becomes apparent that the boys are finished for the time being. "Since he was trying to hit ole Greg here." She gives the Theurge a little shake.

"And you deserved it," she says to the Gnawer.

[Thirty Second Silence] Gregory looks as if he wants to dispute the point. Mouth opening wide at penny before he shuts it and mutters under his breath. Then he was looking at robbie.

"Who are you anyway dude!? I totally had that one!"

[Christian del Piero] "It was an accident," the Ahroun says, confused by Robbie's confusion.

[Robbie Murdoch] "Oh okay." None of this seems to be cooling Robbie off much. If anything he's more angry now, spots of color in his cheeks, tongue tangling up. "An accident. Well, Your Majesty, down here we peasants tend to apologize for accidents, not -- not follow it up with a punch."

Thirty Second Silence asks him who he is. Still hotblooded, the Fianna glowers at him for a second; says nothing.

[Penelope] Penny chuckles, incredulous. "In the middle of a fight, you want a Full Moon to stop swinging and show some manners? Would you be able to, Fiann?"

[Robbie Murdoch] "Do ya see me swingin' at him now?" Robbie snaps.

[Christian del Piero] "Oh, do you?"

Christian stands away from the wall he had been thrust into. It doesn't do much good. Even standing as straight as he possibly can he's still shorter than Robbie. Before he can retaliate, Penny steps in. The Fang exhales loudly, as though he's been holding his breath.

"I'm sorry," he says, with all the willingness of a patient giving up a tooth.

[Robbie Murdoch] That takes some of the wind out of Robbie.

And it's true; he is taller than Christian. By a good half a foot, give or take. But he's not nearly so sturdily built as the Ahroun, and it's entirely possible they don't differ much in weight, just in length of bone. A peasant, Robbie called himself, and though he meant it in anger there's some truth to that title. He's got a peasant's big bones, a peasant's rough sturdy clothing, a peasant's plain, solid face.

A peasant's dull tongue, too. He fumes silently for a few seconds, and then sticks his hand out.

"Accepted," he says. And then, because some part of him recognizes that if a quicktempered Ahroun -- a wounded one at that -- can cough up an apology, then so can he: "Sorry about shoving ya."

That's not a particularly willing apology either. But it's something.

[Thirty Second Silence] Meanwhile gregory is looking at penny with questioning eyes. Everyones apologising should I??? Seemingly decided he gave a sigh and blurted out at a million miles an hour, with very little in his tone to indicate it was in fact an apology...

"SorryItoldyoutoputyoursilverspoonedhandupyourass" The end. Then he was silent again.

[Robbie Murdoch] So there are apologies all around, albeit somewhat unwilling ones, like naughty children lined up and told to shake hands and be friends. There's even a handshake, presumably, between the Fianna and the Fang.

Then Christian is going his way, and Robbie realizes he doesn't even know the guy's name, and somehow this leads back in a circuit to --

"I'm Robbie. Record of Ruin." A pause. There's an apology tucked away here too: "You asked earlier."

[Penelope] Everyone apologizes politely and smooth as you please. Except Gregory, who slams his apology out in one breath.

Christian goes about his business, leaving the other three alone on the street.

Well, if it's that time again.

"Penelope Xenakis, Kiss With a Fist." There's a pause for Gregory to insert his own introduction should he decide to speak up again. "Now, if you're all finished hitting each other, Greg here needs food or the zoo's going to lose a dolphin tonight. Robbie, do you know where there's a diner or something?"

[Robbie Murdoch] "No."

Well, that was helpful.

"I'm lost," he adds. "I was gonna ask ya if you knew how to get back to the BroHo."

[Sinclair] There are four Garou in an alley. Three of them -- 'the boys', in Penny's thinking -- just finished up a brief and fruitless scuffle in that alleyway. Right about now would be when the Galliard who is walking by would light up a cigarette and thus cinematically reveal her presence, but Sinclair doesn't smoke. Nasty, stinky habit, if you ask her. Which no one ever has.

She leans against the corner of the alleyway when she turns it, arms crossed over her chest. "Oh, now don't everyone just rush off. I just got here," she says, a wry lack of humor dripping from her tone.

[Thirty Second Silence] "Gregory Thomas, Thirty Second Silence." He slips that in the gap left for him by Penelope.

"YEah I can get us there its jus---------------" His face goes white as someone familiar lurked in.

[Penelope] Penny turns to look at the newcomer. She reaches up a hand to scratch at her scalp.

"Well, unless you've got about half-a-dozen sandwiches hidden somewhere on your person, I'm up for going to this BroHo joint and getting something edible."

[Robbie Murdoch] Robbie doesn't say anything at all. A wariness creeps back into his eyes, which are grey-green in better lighting but simply some amorphous no-color out in the alley. He folds his arms across his chest, a thoughtless and instinctive gesture that hunches his bony shoulders.

[Sinclair] She isn't Lukas. None of them are Kin. None of them are Walkers. One of them is a Galliard, but she's neither the Galliard elder nor gunning to prove what a big dog she is. Sinclair isn't here to break up a fight that's already worn itself out, and she isn't interested in how it got started. She isn't even going to feign the sort of politeness that was so well-trained into Wyrmbreaker. The mask of civility.

It's impossible to look at Warcry and think civil. It's hard to look at her and even think human. Whatever twang there is to her accent these days, it doesn't make her seem like a cheerful farmgirl to anyone. What sets hairs on edge and makes mortals back off isn't even her rage, has nothing to do with the phase of the moon.

It's the fact that in any pack of wolves, she would immediately be made the prime hunter. Not necessarily the tracker, nor the Alpha, but the one sent lunging forward to rip the throat out of whatever it was being eaten that night. Or killed for the Wyrmpole and the glory that comes with blood saturating one's ruff. Sinclair is a predator. And no metal in her skin or ink underneath it or freckles or smile is going to change what she is.

And what that does to people.

"It's that way," she tells Penelope, jerking her head in the direction of the lake. She gives a few scraps of directions to the Brotherhood, but swivels her eyes around the group. "But don't tell me alla y'all are headin' out. I'll just be so sad if I missed the party and don't get to play a little."

[Robbie Murdoch] There's a silence. Whatever viciousness overtook him in the heat of the moment is gone now, leaving him indrawn and quiet, wary. His eyes glimmer as they flick to the other two with him, who in the face of this newcomer, this woman-faced predator, seem comparatively safe.

Then he bucks up the will, or perhaps the courage, to raise his chin a little and straighten up a bit.

"You asking to throw down, Rhya?"

Her rank is in the way she stands.

[Thirty Second Silence] He motioned with his head to pen pens, his own fist making small movements towards his throat as he muttered "Thats Her!"

Penny looked like she wanted to leave, like she was bored of the boys and their silly games. But Gregory wasn't particularly fond of the idea of being left here with Robbie and the Throat-Puncher alone, even though robbie had jumped into the fight earlier, Gregor knew it had nothing to do with any desire to help the skinny Theurge.

His hand went to his hair nervously and a finger twirled one of the many rough curls protruding out. It was then that Robbie spoke up and Gregory's hand fell slack at his side, his mouth opening as if to protest but no sound came out.

Perhaps they knew each other, perhaps it was all some han/lando thing going down, but Gregory could only see the obvious in the situation.

[Penelope] The newcomer gives directions to this so-called BroHo. Penny makes note of them as best she can. She's new to this city, isn't terribly familiar with the lay of the land. But she'll make do. And if she doesn't find that place in particular, she'll at least get out of this alley and find someplace else with food. And drinks.

Then Gregory's making motions at her, and Penny looks at the woman all over again. Her brows lift, and she lifts her chin, Oh yeah? But whether out of deference for Sinclair's title, or her predator nature, or her own general laissez-faire approach to Gregory's interactions with strangers, she doesn't make an issue of it.

She just looks at Gregory. "Do you want to go get eats?" she asks. Doesn't command. She doesn't order the skinny, scrappy Theurge around. Penny has no control over him or where he goes or what he does.

Whether he decides to stay behind with his throat-puncher and the angry Fiann or go with her, she nods to Sinclair. "Thanks." And whether Sinclair overheard her introduction to Robbie or not, she offers it again. "I'm Penelope. Kiss With a Fist, Cliath Black Fury Ahroun." She waits for an introduction given in kind, or not. She waits for Gregory to come with her, or not.

Then she grins at Robbie. "A pleasure." And she takes her leave.

[Sinclair] All she knows of Robbie is that night at the cemetery when she rolled back into Chicago. That was during those precious few weeks when she wasn't looking for a fight every time she dragged herself out of bed. That was the night they took down a massive, ugly-ass, aging Skull Pig and had a grand old time. She vaguely remembers him. Quiet, especially for one of their moon. Her eyes flick to him when he asks her that, but before she answers there's Gregory air-punching his own neck and mouthing panicked words to nobody. Maybe the female, who Sinclair doesn't know.

Introductions are traded between the Fury Ahroun and the Walker Galliard before the former walks away, which means the rest of them hear it for a second time: "Sinclair. Warcry, Brutal Revelation, Fostern Galliard of the Glass Walkers and bound to the Unbroken under Perun."

Penelope leaves. Gregory, perhaps braver than he acts, stays behind. And Sinclair turns again to Robbie. She gives a single nod. "Hells to the yeah," she all but drawls, and pushes off from the wall with her shoulder, unfolding and lowering her arms. "We get together occasionally and hold a little fight club at the caern, but..."

A sigh. A heavy, wistful, false one. "That's so far."

She chuckles at the Theurge, still leaning where she is. The strength in her seems a lazy thing right now, but there's undeniable grace -- of all things -- in even the way she holds her body against the filthy brick. It doesn't bother her. She nearly lost her virginity in an alley far nastier than this one. Of course then there were the fomori to deal with, and that alley got way messier.

[Thirty Second Silence] Penny was leaving, mr Thomas was staying. Her presence made him braver, the minute she had left he seemed to be more reserved. These were the slums and the forgotten corners of the city, he could find some comfort in that. But the glasswalker leaning against the building wall made it difficult. This was very much HER city, no matter how remote or decrepit the location.

He made his way slowly across the alley, careful to keep the same distance from Sinclair, until he had reached his pack where it sat still leaned up against the boarded up doorway of the abandoned brothel. He picked it up in one hand, dragging it back to the opposite side of the alley from Sinclair and placing it down.

"Hey if you guys want to go at it, sure, but I'm keeping my distance. I dont want to get robbie'd by accident."

[Robbie Murdoch] Again that glance -- which isn't even so much to Thirty Second Silence as it is simply: looking away from the Fostern. Looking at the walls, looking around, looking somewhere else out of instinct.

"Robbie Murdoch, Record of Ruin, Cliath Galliard of Stag," he says. He's forgotten whether he'd ever introduced himself the last time he saw Sinclair. Yet another reason he fails as a Galliard: bad memory. A last beat of indecision; then: "And I'll take ya up on that, Rhya."

[Sinclair] "Woot," she says, without irony.

Her eyes flick to Gregory putting distance between himself and the two Galliards. She looks vaguely amused, but there's an odd lack of maliciousness to it. She just shakes her head and turns back to Robbie. "And I remember. Pull skig in the cemetery with your sinborn tribesmate, yeah?" she reminds him, then steps further into the alley, away from the casual glances of passerby.

She shifts her weight. And that's all the warning there is.

[Robbie Murdoch] There's a brief, slightly scandalized twitch at the corner of Robbie's mouth as Sinclair -- lazily, uninvestedly -- mocks Rory's distinctive speech patterns. He doesn't have much time to do anything else. There's a half-breath drawn for words, and then

the female is coming at him.

[Sinclair] 7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 1

[Robbie Murdoch] 7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 3 (Failure at target 6)

[Sinclair] [1a. leg sweep
1b. jump on! yeehaw!
1c. punch
R1. elbow to the solar plexus]

[Robbie Murdoch] [1a. grab leg!
b. throw!
c. flying tackle!
R1. smash head to ground!]

[cricket] [MORTAL KOMBAT!!]

[Robbie Murdoch] 1a. grapple! -3!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 5, 8 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] b. throw like a punch!
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [dam+1!]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 5, 9, 10 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [b. ok, redoing that!]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 2, 2 (Failure at target 6)

[Sinclair] [1a. dex + brawl + perun -3 (split) // +2 diff (mahnoovah)]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 7, 9 (Failure at target 8)

[Sinclair] [1b. changing to kick. MY leg, asshole.]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 1 at target 8) Re-rolls: 2

[Sinclair] [+0! yeah! check out that homid strength! WHOO.]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] c. flying tackle!
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 3, 7 (Success x 1 at target 7)

[Robbie Murdoch] [dam!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 2, 4, 5 (Failure at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [stay on feet! Perfect Balance merit]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 9 (Success x 5 at target 4)

[Sinclair] [stay up!]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9 (Success x 3 at target 7)

[Sinclair] [1c. -5 COME ON KAHSEENO]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 6, 6, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 6 at target 6) Re-rolls: 2

[Sinclair] [you slut, you. +5]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 5, 9, 9 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] R1. changed to a punch!
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 8 (Failure at target 7)

[Sinclair] [R1. (rolling like a punch) dex + brawl + perun // +2 diff (targeting)
KAHSEENO LOVES HOMID FIGHTING OH YES SHE DOES]
Dice Rolled:[ 11 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 4, 5, 5, 7, 7, 8, 8, 9 (Success x 2 at target 8)

[Sinclair] [+1]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 6, 7, 7 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 9, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [reinit! +7]
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 9

[Sinclair] 7
Dice Rolled:[ 1 d10 ] 5

[Sinclair] [1a. Kick to the kneecap
1b. Uppercut
R1. Backhanded punch
R2. And a punch to the side of the head]

[Robbie Murdoch] He's a skinny motherfucker, Robbie, and his hits don't pack much of a wallop. But there's an iron tenacity in him, hardbitten and close to the bone. Earlier, before Sinclair got here, Robbie went toe to toe with a reckless Ahroun of Falcon. He took four hits; two of them undefended. All he has to show for it is the faint bruise on one cheek.

Now, three seconds with Sinclair later -- which is something akin to eight seconds on the bull -- he doesn't look too much worse for the wear. Rage is crackling around them, though, unstable and fierce, and there's a new light in Robbie's eyes; something wary and intent and focused. She came looking for a fight. She brings an almost terrifying speed and skill to the table, and that's before the blessings of her totem are added in. There's a viciousness to her that he had not quite expected.

It doesn't surprise him, though. It does make him lock down a bit. Some part of him is beginning to take this a little more seriously than they'd perhaps intended.

[1a. trip! (leg sweep)
b. kick to the ribs while down!
R1. elbow to the face!
R2. punch!
R3. punch!]

[Robbie Murdoch] -2!
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 5, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 8) Re-rolls: 2

[Robbie Murdoch] b. kick! -3 dice, -2 diff.
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 2, 3, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 5) Re-rolls: 2

[Sinclair] [Soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 4, 4, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [dam +1]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 8, 9, 10, 10 (Success x 4 at target 6)

[Sinclair] [1a. -2 // +2]
Dice Rolled:[ 9 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 7, 8, 10, 10 (Success x 3 at target 9) [WP] Re-rolls: 2

[Sinclair] [+2]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 4, 6, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Robbie Murdoch] [soak!]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 6, 6, 8 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Sinclair] [1b. changing to get up]

[Robbie Murdoch] [R1 - elbowing! +2 diff, +1 dam]
Dice Rolled:[ 7 d10 ] 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10 (Success x 5 at target 8) Re-rolls: 3

[Robbie Murdoch] [dam +1 +4]
Dice Rolled:[ 8 d10 ] 1, 1, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9, 10 (Success x 3 at target 6)

[Sinclair] [Soak]
Dice Rolled:[ 3 d10 ] 3, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)

[Sinclair] [stunned!]

[Robbie Murdoch] [stopping!]

[Sinclair] This is why they change to fight. This is why at the caern they take other shapes and they literally wipe the floor with one another, saturating the sand in the blood of their own allies. Yes. It keeps them sharp. Yes. It lets off steam. But whatever goddess blesses them or makes demands of them does not look on their battles in frail human skins with much attention or delight. The rage they burn like this doesn't seem to find full voice

like singing under your breath, hoping no one hears you.

And it shows.

In hispo, Sinclair is one of the sept's most dangerous fighters. She serves at the side of the Ahroun elder. And so on, and so forth, and et cetera. In homid, Perun's blessings notwithstanding, it isn't far off from fighting the slender, athletic young woman she appears to be. Robbie's just enough faster, by just enough of a margin, that he knocks her flat on her back the second time he tries to ground her and slams his foot into her ribcage a split second after she hits the asphalt.

If any humans walked by and saw this, a man like Robbie beating on a woman like Sinclair while someone like Gregory stood and watched...

Sinclair doesn't make a noise. Well, not much of one. Her nostrils flare when he kicks her; she lets out a grunt of pain but then something flashes in her eyes and she's kicking at his leg, her teeth bared. Whatever else is going on in the alleyway, she isn't minding it. There's the sense, though, that she isn't even attending to who she's fighting. What she's fighting. What he's doing. Maybe that has something to do with the edge he has over her. Maybe she

just doesn't give a fuck, right now.

Sinclair gets to her feet in a half-flip, uncannily agile, and Robbie yanks back his arm, slamming his elbow into her jaw. Not too much harder and he would have dislocated it. As it is, Sinclair's eyes roll back for a moment, and it's enough -- even before she staggers back a half-step -- that he decides to stop, rather than beating her to a pulp while she's disoriented. Sinclair is dazed a moment, then breathes in through her nostrils and leans over, spitting out a splattering of blood.

Gregory may be finding this all kinds of satisfying to witness.

"Fuckin' cut m'lip," Sinclair mutters, irritably. "That lip gloss stings. Mary and Joseph."

[Thirty Second Silence] Gregory, watched the fight with a bemused look on his to begin with, both combatants barely making even a chink in each others armour. But then it got nasty, wincing sounds could be heard from across the alley followed by Oo's and Ahh's at particularly nasty shots from elbows and feet. When it was all over he had a slight smile on his lips, if only for a second, he couldn't help but find the tiniest bit of satisfaction in watching the Throat-puncher get kicked around.

He made a few clapping noises with his hand before muttering in a raspy voice. "Good show good show, audience didn't even walk out, I'd ask who won but.." his eyes flicked to sinclairs for just the tiniest of moments before darting away again.

[Robbie Murdoch] Lanky and bony as Robbie is, the points of his elbows are practically lethal weapons, and he wields them with a brutal street-tough expertise that his typical quietness belies. He reins in, though, when he sees the Fostern staggering back, eyes unfocused.

He's breathing quicker, thin chest rising and falling under his cheap shirt. His eyes are alert and wary, fixed on her until he's certain she's not about to leap at him with tooth and claw.

Then, when she speaks, the set of his shoulders relaxes just a touch. Wide shoulders, those, just like his limbs are long and his knuckles heavy, but there isn't a lot of meat on that frame. All bone. All unfilled potential.

He cuts the Theurge a vaguely irritated glance as he opines on the fight. Truth is it had been on Robbie's tongue to say things, ask things -- but he holds his peace now, mutely sticking his hand out to shake in some sort of awkward peacekeeping gesture.

[Sinclair] The look Sinclair shoots Gregory at that quip and that glance puts to rest for a moment any imagining that she's settled down. That she's calm. That she's just going to bitch about her lipgloss and fat lip, hurr hurr. "Funny," she says quietly, instead of leaping on him, "I thought you said you were a Theurge, not a Ragabash."

She straightens a bit and tugs up on her t-shirt (it has Grover on it). looking at her midsection. "Hunh," she says thoughtfully, looking at the pretty colors Robbie's shoe left on her ribcage to remember him by. She's tan there, too. Her shorts are fitted and low-rise and khaki. It's easy to see shadows and discoloration around her right thigh, but it's hard to make out exactly what that particular tattoo is. For some reason she's wearing knee-high athletic socks with green and yellow strips on them.

Sinclair pokes at the bruising and bites back a hiss, then drops the hem and looks over at Robbie. Who is unhurt, though he was not untouched. She stares at him a moment, then her brow furrows. "Don't look so nervous, man," she says, taking his hand. "I lost every fight I started in high school, too."

[Robbie Murdoch] "It's not that," he says quietly.

What it is, though, he doesn't say. His hand folds around hers for a moment, and vice versa. Then, letting go, "I'd be thankful if one of ya could point me toward the Brotherhood now."

[Sinclair] "Then what is it?" she says, showing the sort of piercing curiosity that is so often -- and often so wrongly -- expected from her auspice.

[Thirty Second Silence] His eyes narrowed at her comment, he really shouldn't say anything, he really should of just left with penny and let them duke out their pretend battles alone. This sinclair was trouble, she had been trouble the first time Gregory had met her and she was trouble now.

He simply shrugged his shoulders at her and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. He really had nothing to say on the matter that wouldn't inevitably cause the hot headed fostern to kick him into the ground.

[Robbie Murdoch] There's a hesitation. Then his chin comes up a notch and he answers her straight.

"I thought you came to spar," he says, "but seemed more like you came to lay down some real hurt. Or take some. Forgive my being so blunt, Rhya, but what's on ya mind?"

[Sinclair] Perhaps a little unexpectedly, the Fostern gives a smile. It's a thin one, attempting to be wry, and it doesn't conceal anything of the profound ache behind it. She takes the hand she just got back from Robbie and slaps it gently on his chest. Now, from another female it'd be a little pat. Sinclair doesn't pat. So the best that can be said is that for slamming her palm on his sternum, it's more on the gentle side.

"That," she says, "is not a story worth telling around a campfire, much less after a beatdown." She jerks her thumb. "Brotherhood's that way. I'll even give ya a ride." A pause. "In gratitude, I guess."

She glances over at Gregory and frowns at him. "You too, if you don't mind riding in back. I don't have a back seat and Robbie here doesn't look like the type to enjoy holding you on his lap."

[Thirty Second Silence] He shrugged his shoulders again and both his eyebrows raised at her. "Do I look like the type to mind riding in the back?" a pause and then a genuine question. "Is there room for my pack?" He questioned about the rather large back pack resting against the wall beside him, a wooden spoon sticking out of it and a sleeping mat rolled up on the bottom. Beside it sat a scratched up old steel pot.

[Robbie Murdoch] Beneath Sinclair's gently slamming palm, Robbie's chest is hard without give -- not because he's that ripped but because her hand pretty much hits the flat of his breastbone with very little to cushion it. He huffs faintly, more surprise than humor, and bobs his head in a sort of thank-you.

Then Thirty Second wants to bring his back, and Robbie looks at the giant thing with some dubiousness. Sinclair doesn't have a back seat. He probably thinks she drives a Miata.

"If there isn't room I can walk," he says. "Just need to be pointed the right way is all."

[Sinclair] "Buddy, Sargeant Kitty Von Vinkelstein's bed has got room for you, your pack, and all the fuckers that kid met when he was going to St. Ives," she tells Gregory, flourishing the name of her El Camino with a wave of her hand as she turns. "There's room," she tells Robbie, but it's left at that. He comes or he doesn't come. He rides in the passenger seat of the dark green car with the fuzzy black dice or he doesn't. And the same goes for Gregory, whether he ends up hugging his pack in the passenger seat or riding in the back where he can lay back and watch the stars as they get further from the middle of the city and out towards the darker docks where the Brotherhood stands.

Sinclair has at least one cracked rib. She breathes shallowly on the drive. The tattoo on her leg is a vicious-looking black viper covered in vivid green markings wound thrice around her thigh, its fangs buried in her femoral artery. Whoever rides in the seat beside hers gets a look at the metal in her right ear: the industrial piercing up top. The titanium hoop in her lobe adorned with a tiny red bead and miniscule feather dangling down beside it.

There is a metal elemental in the glovebox, which is open. He is tiny at the moment, and snoozing on a bed made of mix tapes, covered by a Roman-style shield made of a Coke can. His snoring sounds like whirring. It changes to a startled EEEEE! when the car starts up and he tumbles out of the glovebox, vanishing in midair before he hits the floorboards.

"Oh, he's gonna be pissed at me for that one," mutters the Galliard with a sigh, and drives to the Brotherhood of Thieves.