Aftermath [Havoc-Carmen]

[Missed first two posts. Havoc shows up at Carmen Losada's apartment. Carmen has locked herself in the bathroom, Linnea is sitting on the floor by the door, reading (sort of) one of Carmen's books.]

[Vanguard] The pale girl looks up, her long, thick blonde braid slides across her shoulder. Except for the pure breeding (only Garou will see the pure breeding), she is a terribly ordinary thing: pale eyes, pale hair, pale skin, with splotches of freckles, otherwise unremarkable, in a white SWARTHMORE t-shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans at least an inch too short, and brown hiking books.

Her legs are bent at the knees, an open book cradled in the valley between them, although she upsets the book, half-standing as Sebastian startles her from some sort of zonal sleep: eyes open, mind far away. "She said you - you might - " pushing herself up from the floor, hands flat, with the sort of easy-motioned grace that one expects from a warrior of their kind, even if such grace is at odds with her awkward, gawky look. Her eyes fly toward the bathroom door, then back to Havoc, and the (sixteen year old) Wyrmfoe takes in a deep breath that swells her shoulders and pushes the bellows of her lungs against the cage of her chest.

"She had problems." The girl avers, "at the Brotherhood. She - she shouldn't go out, not until she's well."

[Sebastian Harcrow] Sebastian takes care when he steps over Linnea with his clunky jack boots, which smell of leather soaked in exhaust fumes and the resin of old motor oil, making sure not to kick her as he passes by. The jacket is tossed rather haplessly over the back of the couch and he undoes the docker's clutch's leather straps so that the holster rig is loose enough to be comftorable... the small semi-auto hand gun is tossed carelessly on the couch next to him where he slumps. "Problems ? I don't suppose she picked up any beer before they kicked in did she ?"

If it weren't for raw amounts of breeding and Rage that the akward teenager contained, Sebastian would have laughed at the idea of her being Wyrmfoe. He'd considered challanging for it, but such had gone out the window early... too much work and respnsability, and better for Ahrouns anyway. He blinks a few times while he watches her and looks about the small flat with a wary look before his eyes rest on the Fang again. " I guess not then... where is she ?"

[Carmen Losada] "Here."
Comes the response from the bathroom door, opening and catching the tale end of Sebastians last query. The hot bath had long since cooled to a chill, which might explains the tendency to shiver slightly. Not having taken in any fresh clothing.. and not feeling that wandering about nude or merely towel wrapped would be the best idea given the Silver Fangs sensibilities, she merely climbed back into her clothes from before. The Hanes undershirt that clings a bit now in wet patched, ripped at the right ribs with faint blood marks at the edges of the tear. Dark dickies, low slung. Barefoot.

Amber eyes - shadowed and dark - drift to her soon-to-be packmate with an expression that is unreadable as it is somber... then over to the 'visitor' [warden]. A penetrating look. Lucid now.
[nevermind it being weary and haunted as all fuck]
"...you need rest, Linnea."
And with that she turns to move into the kitchen, arms crossing at her midrift, holding lightly at her elbows.

[Vanguard] Linnea wrinkles her nose - the oil and exhaust half-choke her. Perhaps she should catch of whiff of her own scent, after more than twenty-four hours awake, sixteen of those wandering the tunnels of the underbawn. Her eyes trace the trajectory of the gun as the Glass Walker tosses it carelessly aside, unable to control the twitch of her mouth - upwards at the corners. Such weapons were for Urrah and Kin. That thought echoes in her mind, not wholly her own, never entirely separate from that which she is.

"Problems." Linnea's eyes drift to Carmen as she appears, and narrow - suspicious, concerned. "I - she - " Still watching the Uktena, she directs her words to Havoc instead, as if the spell that overtook Carmen might return at any time. "She had a fit, didn't know where she was. She went - she went nuts. I - " the girl takes another breath, poised, then plunges onward. "I've seen it before." (In all her years of experience?) She kicks the books she'd been reading carelessly aside, and stuffs her hands into her pockets, and shoots a pale, level glance at Harcrow. "You're going to be here, right? She shouldn't be alone."

[Sebastian Harcrow] Sebastian listens closely to Linnea, his eyes naroowing just slightly as the words sink in. Not suspiciously but more of a darkly tinged curisoity of what happened or how and where she's seen this before. Perhaps it isn't the most polite thing to do in the world, speaking of Carmen in front of her as though she weren't present, but he does it none the less. No one ever acused him of being overly polite.

"Slow down and organize, Wyrmfoe..." his words border on being a command. Almost, not quite. The Rage and Breeding keep it in check for the time being. "Can you expalin to me a little more of 'went nuts' and where you've seen this ?"
You can't combat or heal what you don't understand after all, and while he's often reckless it doesn't include the well being of those he actually trusts.

[Carmen Losada] It is never a pleasent sensation, having people talk about you as if you aren't there. As if you are a child, and it doesn't really matter if you hear or not, because mommy and daddy need to discuss your tantrum in the store and how best to go about correcting this embarrsing deficiency.

It is perhaps a good thing that between the moon phase, expended Rage, and the easing of whatever 'madness' ceased her, the Galliard is in better control of her spitfire temper [passion]. As it is, the Ahrouns words are punctauted with the clattering of a plastic cup, taken up to pour herself something more to drink - alcoholic or non remains a mystery as she tosses the cup into the sink. Jaw tensing. Eyes narrowing. Turns about and walks out of the kitchen... past the wood-burning stove.. past the couch..
At a window she stops, slaps her hand hard against the glass pane as Sebastian [[]traitor. wretch. bastard.[/i]] proceeds to follow suit with the Ahroun.
"Both of you. Out. Now. Stay outside the fucking door and talk about me there if you must but leave. Get out." She doesn't look at them, her back remains turned, soaked hair wetting the thin cotton, dripping down onto the scuffed, scraped, once immaculate hardwood floors. It shows ever sign that - so help her - if they make her turn around....

[Vanguard] The girl pulls her hands from her pockets and crosses her arms, low on her skinny torso, just above her narrow hips, compressing the straight line of her oversized t-shirt with the gesture. She fixes Sebastian with a strained, level look that grows more tense as Carmen sparks with wild fury. "Swallows-the-Sun-yuf." The girl says directly, furiously. Her shoulder straighten, and although she always stands straight, level - with that ungirding of grace - not she seems to expand through the spine. Sixteen, fifty-six. Age is (briefly) meaningless, and she is the sure inheritor of her ancestors, plowing every ounce of authority it gives her into Carmen's deed name.

This is how the kings and queens of the nation were meant to be.

"You did not know where you were. You were not in control of yourself. You were tearing at your skin and your hair and your hands,. You were fighting unseen enemies when there was no one in the room.. You were a danger to the Veil, to the kin and humans. You were a danger to yourself. Imagine all we would lose if the enemy found you in such a state. Your packmate deserves to know what happened, so that he may protect you the next time such a thing happens. If you can remember, you tell him."

Vanguard of the Dawn shoots another glance at Sebastian, her mouth twisting into a faint grimace, her aura of authority deflating considerably. She is, at the heart of it, just an ordinary girl. "She was behaving strangely earlier in the day. S-she - " Linnea knows him from no one. "Watch over her. I - I have to go. Warder doesn't tolerate tardiness."

[Sebastian Harcrow] "Everything she says is true, Carmen. I know it might upset you, but it has to be said." His eyes flicker rapidly between the two women (woman and girl, really, honestly) and he watches both warily. One for the fear of a thick birthmoons rage, another in a caution he exhibits around the blue bloods as a matter of principle. His lips curl into the beginings of an unpleasnt expression at the feint grimace, but he doesn't let it blossom into a full out display of his lack of regard for her kind. Theyre impressive leaders when they do well, but doing well is debatable.

Now isn't the time or place.

"I'll stay with her." Brief, plane, simple. He doesn't give his word because there isn't a need, nor does he see reason in further explanation as to why he'd take care of her after this... fit. He may be an urrah, a breedless mongrel and of unfit tribe and linneage. Sebastian does have one thing Linnea isnt as obviously displaying though. Years of life experience, more then he should have at his age, and the aquired ability to confidently handle whats ever tossed at him as though undaunted. "I can handle it"

[Carmen Losada] Damnable Silver Fangs with their greater-than-purity and their...
[Whom does she style herself to be, this puny whisp of a girl barely out of her mothers shadow! Wymrbringer! Purity? *snorts* Fallen purity. Inbred welp....]
...it is a war between the awe that slams into her back, even when not looking at the Silver Fang - and her current irritation [pride-stung ire] and the voices of ancestors of a different sort of Purity who rile and rage up against bowing to the whims of what they in their time percieved to be little more than the enemy...

...in the end she merely stiffens further taking each blow of the Ahrouns words like a lash upon her flesh. Point for point. Her lips pressing hard together, her fingers curling into fists. Knowing the truth and reason of this young new-Wyrmfoes words... even as she rejects their basis as uninformed. Inexperienced.
But the point of the matter is that she doesn't lash out.. be it from her own control or the authroty that pours from the colt of a girl [Queen. Beast.] - a good helping of both.

In the end, she shakes her head slowly... "I knew where I was." Somehow that makes it worse. "I never fully lost control." That doesn't mean she won't the next time.. and there is always a next time. "And that I am here at all is at the price of what you saw. There is always a price, Vanguard-of-the-dawn-yuf. I was willing to pay it." Well, whatever that means.

At Sebastian words that he'll stay.. that he can handle it... she snorts. Opening the window she ducks down and climbs over the still, stepping out onto the fire escape. Remaining in clear view - no she isn't trying to escape - and lighting up a cigarette.

[Vanguard] The girl is impassive, her mouth set, her eyes narrowed and focused. Her body vibrates with the repressed possibility of movement, tense and ready lest Carmen explode. She does not, however - and slowly, Linnea unfolds her arms and absently wipes her palms on the thighs of her jeans.

"Find me when you've recovered, Swallows the Sun-yuf," her voice is clear, it rises, barely, over the sudden rumble of city noise, the whir of a police helicopter overhead. "I have some things to discuss with you." She steps back, bends low to sweep up Carmen's books and return them to their bookshelves, then circles the apartment to stand at the door. "Goodnight, to you both." With that, she pulls open the door and disappears down the hallway, into the night.

Some minutes later, Carmen will doubtlessly see the girl as she emerges at street level, her pale braid shining in the amber light. She glances up the four stories to the fire escape and offers the Uktena a quick wave, then takes off, running bare-armed through the chilly morning, back in the direction of the Caern.