World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Cooling Off, Warming Up [Complete]

[Owns-The-Night]

{Wednesday, 27th August, 23:40}

Funny how one bad encounter can mess up your day. Must be karma or some shit. Declan grumbled to himself as he walked along Hilgard Avenue. After the face-to-face with Frank White, the Uratha's good mood from the previous night's conversation with Morgan and Amber had been lost. He'd tried to recover it, but the rest of his day had been filled with small, niggling setbacks and annoyances that hadn't so much enraged as consistently frustrated him. So when knocking-off time had come he'd decided to get out, to relax in a social atmosphere, have some beers, and just chill out for the evening.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. A lot of the bars were noisy, overcrowded, and filled with strong scents of lust, nervousness and excitement that acted on the werewolf as Red Bull would act on a human being. Damn. I've got to try and be in a good mood Friday: don't want to go to a concert if I'm already tensed up. Frank and those like him just better stay the fuck away from me for the rest of the week, or so help me I'll...

The thought wasn't finished as Declan's moody eye caught a flash of brilliant colour in the parking lot of the W Hotel. He'd cut through the lot before, of course. Many times. But not this late at night without some other business in mind. As it was, his unfocused mind made a connection, triggered by the sight of a woman getting off a candy-red moped in the staff parking area.

Hmm. The small about-town vehicle was very familiar, but the beautiful woman who was currently walking away from it was more so. Hair up in some neat style, she was dressed in a type of uniform: blouse, skirt, tights and shoes, that spoke of someone headed to work. Quite a departure from the vivid red dress and elaborate dark mass of piled-up hair that he remembered from their first brief encounter.

He waited in the dim light as she went inside the hotel, wondering if there was some pretext to follow her. Then his eye caught a sign. "Whiskey Blue: All Welcome"

A bar. Probably expensive. He considered his spare cash. It was light: the vast majority of his disposable income had gone on that brooch and cloak for Morgan. An impulse buy, but not one he regretted at all. He had about $150 left until payday. What the hell. It's not like that's far away. He was glad that he was wearing a shirt and slacks, rather than the usual T-shirt and jeans. This looked like the type of place that would throw a working joe out. He sauntered into the hotel's lobby, hands in his pockets, and saw the woman he knew as 'Vienne' emerging from a small office and taking up station behind the reception desk.

Wonder what her deal here is. Working? She didn't seem like the type. Out of part curiousity, part devilment, the solidly-built man wandered up to the desk.

"Excuse me?" His low voice carried to her ears readily, and he saw her eyes move to his face, wondering if she recognised him. "I'm looking for the Whiskey Blue. Which way is it, please ma'am?"

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne no sooner logged in at the computer than she was greeted with a familiar face.

"Ah, Adrian & Sarah's friend." He cleans up well enough. "The WB is just through there", she gestured down the corridor. "Anything else I can do for you?"

It was only a matter of time before somebody found where I work. I'll just watch my back a little closer.

Vienne played it cool, like it was nothing big that he should find her working there.

[Owns-The-Night]

"No, but thanks." He smiled a little and started away, then hesitated and turned back. "Actually, I was wondering: if you get a break, would you be cool with comin' to chat?" He gestured in the general direction of the UCLA campus. "Thats my stampin' grounds over there, and in the interest of bein' a good neighbour, I was wonderin' if we could talk a little." He gave the dark-haired beauty a conspiratorial wink and a grin that was a little wolfish as his voice dropped very low. "Predator to predator, as it were."

An elevator dinged and chatter flooded the lobby as a gaggle of customers emerged from it and headed for the desk. Without waiting for an answer, but nodding politely to the vampiress in parting, Declan turned away and wandered down the corridor she had indicated with a steady stride. It wasn't long before the back of his head and his broad shoulders were out of sight.

He found the Whiskey Blue to his taste.

Declan was a little surprised: he'd never figured himself for a lounge kinda guy. But seven months ago you never figured yourself for a werewolf either. Live and learn. The lighting was subdued, the music an unobtrusive selection from different parts of the world, and the drinks were... well, expensive. But there were no raucous frat boys flashing fake I.D's, no stink of overactive hormones, no possibility of being showered in beer, and most of all no danger of having some mouth-breather get their "self-preservation" and "machismo" wires crossed due to too much beer and decide to pick on the one person in the bar that they really shouldn't.

*********************

The woman behind the counter smiled over a trifle nervously as the silver-eyed man slid onto a stool at one end of the bar. He was well-groomed and well dressed, if a little down-market as far as clothing labels went for this place. After some thought and study of the drinks available, he ordered an expensive import beer in a softly resonant voice that made her shiver. She cast a glance at him as she poured, only to look away as she realised he was watching her actions with a strange intensity. It wasn't scary, wasn't so much threatening as... simply intense. As though watching her pour his beer was the most important thing on his mind at that time. It made her vaguely uneasy, but as soon as the beer was in front of him his eyes left her and he passed her a $10 bill with a murmured thanks and a direction to keep the change.

She kept a discreet distance from him, noting that he would glance around from time to time, his head tilted in a curious way as he looked at the door. Expectantly, or hopefully. She couldn't tell, but he was sure as hell waiting for someone.

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne fumed as the unusual acquaintance of Adrian's walked to the lounge. Just who does he think he is? "Predator to predator"! I could laugh! What could he have to say to me?

She didn't have any reason to trust or take this mortal seriously, but she had been surprised with kine of late. Particularly those that consort with her own kind. Maybe she might learn more about Adrian and Sarah from this one.

She determined he was a ghoul, a messenger boy. Her 5 minute break wasn't until 2:30am. Am I truly completely without my resources tonight? She excused herself to the Ladies. There, she checked her hair, her lipstick, the neatness of her old-fashioned looking flight attendant black uniform that was just interesting enough to wear at all. She spent a good five minutes in there, waiting. Then she went back to the office behind the desk, clutching her stomach after entering with a wince.

Candy looked over from her screen with genuine concern in her eyes. "What's wrong, dear?"

Vienne scrambled to a seat and regarded Candy with false trepidation. "I've been pregnant for five weeks. Two days ago, I had it ..." she looked ashamed. "They said I could come back to work in four days, but I couldn't tell anyone-!"

Vienne used all of her sweetness and innocent expressions that tugged at Candy. Her eyes said I didn't know it would be like this, a perfect little lost child and an older sister opportunity who could not let this get out.

Candy's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Why didn't you tell me?" She turned her chair and complete attention on Vienne. Within moments she was hugging her as she pretended to begin crying into a tissue from Candy's desk. She didn't, of course. "My Uncle just walked into the lounge and I swear my Aunt must have told him. She was the only one I trusted. If he tells anyone..."

Candy's mind immediately played through a couple situations where this could be very bad for her if it got to the top. Her boss was none other than Vienne's boyfriend (the day bellhop) Raphael's father. Candy had fought to keep her working there, but it was known that Mr. Caravejo did NOT want Vienne seeing his son. The crazed man was convinced she had Raphael into drugs and all sorts, but Candy knew it was just love. Sweet youth and first loves were no reason to fire Vienne Lariette. Candy would never do it, and she walked on thin ice for it.

"Listen to me." Candy grabbed Vienne's shoulders firmly with determination in her eyes. "You must go and work this out with your Uncle. I will lose. My. Job. Do you understand? Why didn't you tell me sooner? You will lose Raphael and your job if this gets out. You need to find out if he knows and if he does know, what it will take to win his confidence." Candy looked pained. "At whatever price." She looked away in shame and released Vienne's shoulders. "I'm sorry."

Vienne stared dumbly without a word. What? It worked? "Please, whatever happens, don't tell Raphael. He doesn't know."

"Oh!" Candy's face transformed into a mask of compassion and she hugged Vienne's head to her bosom where she sat with little tears in her eyes. She really was a sweet woman. Nodding, "Of course I won't, dear. Of course, not."

Vienne's eyes widened a little in surprise as her head was tugged to Candy's chest. Stop it woman, you're making me hungry and I have a date with Mr. No Can Nibble!

Vienne smiled to herself for a second and wrapped her arms around Candy in a reciprocal needy hug. "I'm sorry, Candy. Someone will have to cover for me tonight."

"Say no more, child. I can do the accounts when Raphael gets in come morning."

With that, she composed herself and departed to the lounge slowly and nervously. Inwardly, Vienne was laughing herself silly. It was nearly impossible to keep her aplomb.

[Owns-The-Night]

That was quick. Declan looked up from his beer with a slight smile quirking his lips. He had barely taken two swallows from his beer, and already Vienne was walking through the doorway of the lounge-bar. He raised his head and caught the woman's eye. The severe black uniform was... interesting. Not quite the same crowd-pleaser as Hunt's maids uniform, it was somehow more intriguing as it covered more skin, but hugged the figure in ways that accentuated movement. Plus, it did have the advantage of having her in it... It was strange to have thoughts like this about something he'd been told (by Amber) was an enemy, but he found his evaluation of her walk a little more than merely aesthetic as she approached.

"Hi." His smile was still slight, but it was genuine enough. Tilting his head slightly to the left, he evaluated her up-close through eyes not narrowed with suspicion and defensiveness. The rest of him was perfectly still: whether relaxed or poised, it was hard to tell at a casual glance. One hand was curled around his glass, the other hung easily at his side.

"Want a drink?" He blinked, then realised how that might sound to a vampire. "I mean, if you're allowed to while workin'?" That ought to clear up his meaning. That was dumb, Dec. Great way to start the chit-chat: "Want a drink?" Sheesh, I can imagine the reply.

[Vienne Carreau]

She sauntered over to the bar and took a seat, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Who is Declan, really? He had her interest piqued. Must be someone's pet ghoul.

"You say we're neighbors, but you don't look like a student."

She leaned closer, resting an elbow on the bar. Confidentially, "Are you sure you can afford what I drink? It's true what Adrian told you when we were introduced. I am "one of the good ones", whatever the hell that means, but I wouldn't say that gives anyone license to call me away from my business. Adrian has already done this last Friday, and now you. Maybe some compensation might be in order."

She was feeling sore about Adrian still and this man was his associate and who knows what else. She'd see where he stands.

She looked him directly in the eyes, her own hard and dark, reflecting the light as moonlight on polished stones. "A drink wouldn't go amiss." She was not vamping this one.

Let us see what his reaction reveals about him.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Adrian, huh?" Declan frowned slightly. "Yeah, he just makes friends and influences people all over, doesn't he? Heart's in the right place though. So far." He returned her gaze, silver for obsidian, and nodded slightly. "If I'd known he'd bothered you, I might have thought twice. But..."

He leaned towards her, closing the distance further. He found her hard to read without scent helping him: she smelled feminine, but not Female, and that was somewhat strange to him. As if he could hear and see her, but couldn't touch. But he displayed no fear or agitation, being so close to her. "The type of drink you got in mind might be expensive, alright. But not for me. I'm no more human than you are, Vienne. You heard the phrase "Too rich for my blood"? Turn that on it's head and think it over, and you're better off with a beer, for now." He gave her a little smile, a hint of mischief. "Want one?"

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne tilted her head, curious. "You smell human enough for me." There was a hint of teeth.

Declan tilted his head to match hers with a smile and shook his head slightly. "Believe me, I'm not."

Vienne straightened on her bar stool a little. "Okay." She tried to look at him more closely. He looked shaven, he's clean, better dressed. His eyes had a unique quality, unguarded to the point of vulnerability and a most peculiar silver-gray. "What's your game?"

She leaned toward the blonde woman behind the bar further down from where they sat. "A Corona w/ lemon, Janey."

[Owns-The-Night]

He straightened up in turn, taking a long sip from his own beer as the girl, Janey, served his companion. He waited until she moved away, then rested his elbow on the bar top, leaning slightly towards Vienne in a confidential manner.

"Like I said before: my haunts are just up the street. I didn't know you were here, not that it matters a whole lot. But it does make us neighbours, and that can be bad or good for both of us." Declan's voice was a soft, low resonant tone that was pleasant to hear in such a setting, cutting under the ambient music as he spoke to her. His eyes never wavered from her face, gazing intensely at her as though she were the only thing he was thinking about. It wasn't rapt adoration: more like intent focus. "I'm not human. Never have been, but I only found out half a year ago. It's the way of my... people to stake out territory and defend it. Call it instinctive. We're very much creatures of instinct." He shrugged.

"But instinct doesn't have to make a body stupid. There's other things that share this place with me, and I need to find out if I can trust them at all, if there's pacts or deals that they consider sacred. Hell, if they even think in common-sense terms like 'alliance' or 'friendship'." He smiled at her. "My experience with your people is limited to two. One thinks more like my folks, and the other is Adrian." He let that hang on the air as if it were all the explanation needed for that. "So call this a meet and greet, getting to know the locals. Are they all the same? Are they all as I've been told by others of my people: not to be trusted, better off dead?" He shrugged again, about the only expressive gesture he seemed to make other than with his head. He seemed to use the tilt of his head and shoulders the way humans used their hands: to emphasize his words.

[Vienne Carreau]

"I would have to know what your people are and more about them before I agree to give you the information Adrian and Sarah didn't." She liked the way he looked at her. It said I can do that, too.

"My secrets are never free." She didn't drink her beer, she put it in front of him. "I work here at night, but I don't want attention brought to me here. We should talk somewhere else. We're on camera, even. This complicates matters for me more than you know. We should leave. And if anyone asks, you're my uncle."

[Owns-The-Night]

"Okay." He nodded in agreement. "I don't like talkin' out in the open either. My place is just up the street, opposite the campus. Want to come by when you're done here?"

"Let me get my purse, we'll walk." Vienne slipped off her stool and walked off to reception. Declan drained his beer as he watched her leave, then pondered Vienne's for a long moment before draining that one too. He stood up, tossed another ten dollar bill on the bar top, and walked away without a backward glance.

Vienne was waiting for him by the entrance, falling into step with him as they exited the hotel. He kept his hands in the pockets of his slacks, walking with a steady even pace up Hilgard alongside her. He said nothing as they moved, and nor did she.

It wasn't far. The lights and wooded areas of UCLA were to Vienne's left as Declan stopped by a gate and, opening it, waved her through. A few moments later they were through the door, and soft golden light flooded his lounge from the solitary lamp.

"Make yourself comfortable." He told her, gesturing to the sparsely furnished lounge. A single couch and an easy chair in front of the old television were the only places to sit here, other than a large red beanbag on the floor next to the couch. "I'm going to grab a drink." He disappeared into the kitchen, and she could hear a fridge door opening and closing before he came back in with a carton of milk.

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne plopped unceremoniously on the beanbag and examined the room. The place was temporary. No family photos, no personal items laying around save for a book on the arm of the sofa 'The Book of Five Rings'.

Declan returned with a plastic carton of milk, sipping at it like coffee. She waited to see what he had to say and wondered if this were all some sort of setup, much as she did when she met Lucien.

[Owns-The-Night]

He came and perched on one arm of the easy chair, regarding the woman as she got comfortable on the beanbag. He found it frustrating that he couldn't read her scent. It forced him to rely on obvious visual cues, and going by those, she seemed calm enough. He decided to come to the point.

"Seein' as we've already had the lead-up, lets get down to business." He gestured towards her with the milk carton. "You're a vampire. You need to feed on blood, but you don't have to kill to do it. There's different types of vampire. That's pretty much all I know." He shrugged.

"Me, I'm another type of boogeyman. I change my shape, don't like strong perfume, like to howl at the moon." He smiled impishly. "In short, I'm a werewolf."

[Vienne Carreau]

"You're fucking kidding me." This man IS over the moon and the the rainbow with it.

She gave Declan the sort of hard look that said someone had just told her tomorrow the sun would rise and would not be going back down.

"So eh..." She reached desperately for reasons why tonight was happening the way it was. She clearly wanted it to be another way. "You woke up one day and realized 'Hey! I'm a werewolf!'?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"Woke up from a year-long wakin' nightmare and realised 'Hey, I'm a werewolf', actually." The self-proclaimed werewolf smiled over his milk carton at her. "See, werewolves aren't 'turned' like you folk are. We're born special, but have to wait to realise it. And when we're about to, thing's get fuckin' weird: seein' things, hearin' and smellin' things, gettin' strange dreams. It all builds up until we have our First Change. And when we do, everythin' that was weird before makes perfect sense." He grinned at her, enjoying her scepticism.

"You're a vampire. It so hard to think that werewolves are real too?" He drained the last of the milk with a few steady swallows, then licked the moustache off his upper lip.

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne really appreciated his honesty. Really. He is clearly a specimen of credulity. The man geniunely seems to believe it.

"So how did you fall in with Adrian and Sarah? Wouldn't they be a bit wary of a werewolf?"

Vienne thought the line of conversation, however daft, had gone from serious to just-for-fun. She'd sit it out and talk to this weird stranger, it was better than being at work.

[Owns-The-Night]

"Sarah's kind of a... distant relative. And Adrian knew her, had a problem, and she brought that problem to me. That's pretty much it." His head tilted to one side as those silver eyes looked at her in the soft light. "You think I'm fuckin' nuts, don't ya?"

He was smiling, but there was a challenge mixed with the humor in his eyes as he looked at the lovely vampiress.

[Vienne Carreau]

"You wouldn't mean Adrian's little problem which interrupted my hook-up with Lucien Hunt, would you? Adrian's little problem which just happened to have perfect timing to inform me that Lucien and Sarah had been seen together and might be an item? I somehow get the impression he really just doesn't want me to feed on models or something. Maybe he feels left out, hell I'll never understand him." Vienne caught herself babbling.

"I'm still a bit sore about that interruption. Things were going so well." Why the hell am I unloading on a lunatic in casual conversation? Am I really that lonely? The small voice she tried to ignore in her inner core said "Yep,".

"So this little problem, wouldn't happen to be involving a "were" that "eats men", would it? Maybe one of yours?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"Adrian cock-blocked you, huh?" Declan was chuckling, a low throaty sound that definitely sounded... growly, now that she thought about it. "Yeah, the problem is one of my people gone bad. We're not supposed to eat humans, delicious though they're supposed to be. It's taboo. Not to mention sloppy. The guy's been mauling them and leaving them lying around. Bad news for the rest of us."

He shrugged. "Still, we're on his trail now. I'm surprised he was talkin' to you about it though: you don't seem like the type who'd have much to do with the rougher side of life. Was he tryin' to grasp any clues he could?"

[Vienne Carreau]

"I'll take that as a compliment -apparently I might be connected somehow. I ran into him once before at random in a club. I'm not sure why I'd be connected." She shrugged. "So what do werewolves eat, anyway?"

Am I really having this conversation?

[Owns-The-Night]

Declan grinned toothily at her in mock threat. His silver eyes, on the other hand, were filled with good humor.

"Oh, just anything tasty-looking that goes walking by." He deadpanned for a whole 10 seconds, then winked at her and chuckled again. "Seriously, we can eat more or less anything humans can. But we prefer meat, rare."

[Vienne Carreau]

"So pretty much what wolves eat, but not still moving? Or do you also like moving meat?"

She bombarded him with questions.

"What about Kindred, how do werewolves usually react to us? Are we the enemy or are we playmates? I know you associate with Adrian and Sarah."

Vienne played with a lock of her hair. "Can I see you change?" She threw that last in for the hell of it. She was going to treat the moment with the craziness it deserved. "I mean, if it can happen while people look and stuff."

She was practically chewing bubble gum and musing over her nails.

[Owns-The-Night]

"I hang around Sarah. Adrian, not so much." Declan withheld the fact that Adrian was currently using his place as an emergency shelter. The leech didn't make too much mess or noise, and came in only an hour or less before sunrise. A perfect houseguest. "Sarah and I are friends. Dunno about 'playmates'" He chuckled at that. "And we like to hunt our own meat, but it's not always practical in a city unless you raid zoos or eat people's pets. Neither of which is appealin' to me."

"As to how werewolves see your kind? Most of what I've heard is that you can't be trusted, that you're soulless and heartless. Not blood enemies or anythin', but definitely not on the Christmas list." He shrugged. "Don't know about that myself. Sarah's got a soul for sure, as far as I can tell. And Adrian can be weird, but he cares about stuff like murdered kids. Maybe they're exceptions? Maybe not. That's one of the reasons I approached you."

He smiled slightly. "You want to see me change, huh? I guess I can understand that." His hands went to his shirt buttons as he stood. He unbuttoned the shirt and peeled it off without much preamble or flirtation. He assumed that a dead woman wouldn't care about seeing a man stripping off in front of them. After all, they don't get aroused, right? Takes glands and hormones and shit. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then unfastened his slacks and stepped out of them in the dim golden light. He took a soft breath, let it out, and as he did so changed.

His face lengthened, fur sprouting across his naked body, racing over the fresh red scar on his belly and up over the dark symbol on his chest. Teeth became longer, whiter, sharper. His ears shifted to the top of his head as his nose became a finely-tuned implement. It took only a few seconds, but before the vampiress' startled dark eyes the silver-eyed man became a silver-eyed wolf, dark and shaggy furred as it sat back on it's haunches before her. The eyes were the same, though, intelligence that was more than merely animal shining forth from them in the lamplight as he watched her face.

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne thought she'd drunk something funny, only she hadn't dined yet tonight. Her voice was level, conversational.

"You're a wolf." She blinked slowly, trying to see if the very large lupine before her would be there when she opened her eyes again.

"You're still a wolf." Vienne's head dropped sideways as she looked at him. His head followed hers. "Not only are you a wolf, you're the first person who ever knew what I am and took their clothes off for me."

She thought of Raphael. "No, wait, you're not."

He sat there, watching her what seemed quizzically. "What you said about Kindred. I don't know what others are like. I've met very few. I'm told we're everywhere, but I don't feel right around them. They call my kind Succubi. We are heartless, we are soulless, and we play with our food."

She leaned toward the wolf. It was beautiful. She wanted to feel his fur. She reached out to touch his ruff, an almost lazy gesture. "Whether that makes us blood enemies or not, I don't know. I don't really care. I don't feel." Her voice held the lacadaisical nonchalance of unconcerned youth.

Vienne felt the pretention in the eyes of Declan and Sarah during their introduction. They had already made up their minds about the Succubus. She wanted to see how far it went with this one. He was different tonight. Maybe things would be different.

"Do werewolves feel? Do they even care about humans? Or each other?" She lowered her hand. The wolf straightened its neck.

She was a supernal beauty. Impossible to imagine heartless and without compassion when animated, when full of expression. For most Daeva, like her Sire, she would be dismissed as a consummate actress. She was new yet and held her humanity closer still. But her expressions were still a mask. Her feelings rarely surfaced. She'd lose those soon, too. Vienne knew too well what happened when stimulation began to wane or feeling ebbed away. Depravity would sink in, then boredom or loneliness and another Vienne would be the result. She tried not to think of her Regnant.

The wolf was a good listener. He was also patient. After a moment's silent contemplation, Vienne muttered, "My kind are always beautiful, but never trust us. I can't speak for Gangrel, but I can speak for my clan. We never feel and we never forget. All we have are our memories and it's the only thing we can be sentimental about."

Her words held the ring of truth to them, but truth seemed to suit the creature as much as oil suited water. This was not the woman who had originally introduced herself. This was Vienne Carreau, or as close to it as anyone might get.

[Owns-The-Night]

Whether through animal instinct or cognition, or some unique combination of the two, Declan-the-wolf realised that in some distant way, the woman-seeming creature in front of him was indeed possessed of some feeling, and lamented the fading of that sensation.

He moved forward slowly and placed his chin on her shoulder, cheek to cheek, fur to smooth pale skin. She smelled warm, but without any definitive scent. No chemicals danced in her blood, no pheromones escaped from her pores. It was an illusion, nothing more. But under the illusion, he wondered whether some part of her felt his gesture as he held it for a long moment.

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne froze. She wasn't sure what to think. Tonight, her world had gone mad. Man's Best Friend had just put his head on her shoulder in what must have been a comforting gesture. So then, pity from a wolf.

She found herself pressing her left hand into his fur after all. It was thick and soft. His fur didn't smell wholly like an animal. It was the scent of clean dog with a hint of something woodsy about it. A clean scent. His heartbeat was completely calm, he wasn't worried she'd fight.

"So eh, guess you can't talk in this form. Do you change into the Big, Hairy and Sasquatch shape we see on tv, too?"

[Owns-The-Night]

He gave her a slight nuzzle, then turned and trotted easily to a doorway on the far side of the large lounge. Scant moments passed, and he re-emerged from the doorway in human shape, a bathrobe wrapped around his powerful frame.

"Yes, we do. That's our war-form. We only take that one when there's killin' to be done, or when we lose control of our Rage. Kind of a weapon of last resort or overwhelmin' first strike." He sat down opposite her, the tanned muscles of his chest visible through the gap in the robe. "And we feel. We feel everything, about four times the intensity of the vast majority of the Herd. Rage, lust, life... love." This last got a wry smile. "Sometimes that gets out of hand."

"As for humans, we watch over them. Some of them we grow to like. But we're different from them and some part of them knows that. We call them the Herd, and when necessary we drive them, nurture them, and cull them." He said this matter-of-factly, his pale eyes calmly gazing across at her. "Other's of our kind? Sometimes we fight them, sometimes we band together in packs. Most of the time, in fact. We're social creatures."

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne tried to picture werewolf love getting out of hand. She decided there were some things best left uncontemplated.

"So, uh, hmm. I guess I have a war form, too. But it only comes out when I completely lose control. I haven't before, it's not something that my kind can really do and stop till everything's dead or the vampire is. My kind will go completely feral under particular circumstances. Fight or flight. Different triggers result in either."

"We generally leave our prey alive and able to recover without attracting notice. We don't leave marks."

"I have to say, I've never really sat in a sharing session with anyone before. So how did you fall in With Sarah and Adrian?"

[Owns-The-Night]

"Sarah sought me out. She saw some of my territory markers and tracked me down." He didn't elaborate further. For one thing, despite the frankness of this talk and the easiness of conversation, he wasn't going to fully explain every aspect of Uratha existence in one sitting to a relative stranger. "She and I talked, then a few days later she called me up and told me about Adrian and his problem. We were just meetin' for the first time that night you bumped into us outside the Art Center."

"Sorry for the reception you got there." He said simply, and honestly. "I was recoverin' from a bad wound, in the company of three vampires, only one of which at the time I had any measure of trust with. I wasn't at my best."

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne stood up. There had been a Moment. It was skewed and it was weird, but there had been one. Now, it was gone.

"It's time for me to go, neighbor."

"I'm not entirely certain my reception would have been any different under other circumstances. You'd be surprised." She didn't seem to smile a lot, this one.

"Are you in the area at night? Any friendly warnings for me?"

[Owns-The-Night]

He too stood up, his robe hanging loosely from his broad shoulders. "Yeah, be careful prowling around UCLA. There's some strange shit going on that I'm trying to sort out. That's a friendly warning." He smiled. "You're okay otherwise, Vienne."

He stepped close and offered her his hand. "It was nice to sit and talk with you. If you feel like another talk, look me up. We can play good neighbours till you get sick of it." He winked at her and smiled.

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne took his hand. "I hope that's not another invitation."

She was hungry. She'd been hungry all night. Now she was really hungry. She wasn't sure she had the stomach to hunt tonight.

"By the way, you might want to talk to Lucien Hunt. He seems to know where your maneater is."

She smiled for once, "Good luck with that."

[Owns-The-Night]

His eyes widened a little at that, but he kept the handshake gentle and warm. "Hunt? Hmm. Okay then, I guess I'll have a word with him." Her smile was quite lovely, and he returned it as he escorted the woman to the door.

"As for an invitation..." He hesitated for a moment, then smiled again. "Yeah, guess it was. Come in peace, and I'll roll out the welcome wagon for you." He opened the door for her and gave her a nod. "G'night, Vienne."

[Vienne Carreau]

Vienne made the peace sign at him and swung off and out into the night. This guy was interesting. At least she had an acquaintance that knew what she was and didn't seem interested in using/ manipulating/satisfying their own lusts with her. It was nice to be spoken to rather than at for a change. Mortals weren't all bad, perhaps. She wasn't particularly attracted to animals, so it was easy to psych herself into creating a little 'not male, not female' voice within her inner Beast.

Vienne felt a twinge of conflict regarding her Thrall. She had an idea for Raph.