The library's ground level is one large room punctuated by even rows of pier columns that confidently hold the weight of the upper floors. The building is old but solid, its lath and plaster walls dark with age. Here and there some of the plaster has worn off to reveal the wooden slats beneath. Heavy, dark grained and decorated mahogany wainscoting runs the length of the walls, complimented by thick, ornate crown molding along the ceiling and each of the columns. It's clear from the dilapidated condition that the building's been abandoned for decades. There is a somber, sepulchral quietness to the place, even when alive with people, that is perhaps a ghostly echo of the rigid, required silence that its wardens demanded when the library was in its heyday.
Compact is the word for him: wiry, maybe 5'6" in his beat-up black combat boots, with a sense of compressed energy and imminence like a coiled spring -- or a cocked gun. Never quite still for long, balance flowing through the balls of his feet. There's a striking intensity to his narrow blue-green eyes, the colour contrasting with his fair skin and spiky copper hair; just below the left is what at first appears to be a faint mole, but closer inspection reveals as a small, long-healed scar. His features are appealing, with high cheekbones and a good jawline, but it's the confident mien and roguish smile that most often seem to draw people in.
He's in a well-worn biker jacket of the traditional sort, all fairly closely fit black leather and silvery zippers and snaps. Beneath it, he's got old black jeans with a rip in one knee and the cuffs half walked off and a faded plain black t-shirt which fits rather snugly, in a flattering sort of way. There's a couple leather-and-bead bracelets on one wrist and a length of ball-chain disappearing beneath his collar; his nails were apparently painted black some time ago, since they're starting to show chips. Late teens, most likely, and when he speaks it's in a mellifluous, southern-accented baritone voice.
Shaggy brown hair and darker brown eyes frames this young boy's face. Justin has a slightly tanned complexion with a hint of Puerto Rican from his mother's side, Caucasian from his father's. He has a fairly lanky build that could use a bit of bulking upas he is built like a high school track runner. He wears loose fitted 'destroyed' blue jeans, simple tank tops, and worn down sneakers that are about five months in need of replacement, and during the cold, a thick green military jacket from his Grandpa. He looks like your average, ordinary American young teen that plays outside and is fairly active. Tall at five foot ten, he is a few inches higher than most his age for now.
Thick honey-blonde hair, styled in a poofy set of curls, rings this pretty blue-eyed young woman's head. She's in her late teens, and her hair's currently left down, though it's occasionally pinned up. She stands about five and a half feet tall, and is a little on the thin side of things, though not to an extreme. She dresses mostly in informal styles, from ripped jeans and tank tops to the occasional sundress.
Currently, she wears the former, her black tank top emblazoned with a large sequined red heart, and her jeans so ripped as to be nearly indecent. About half of the heart's sequins are missing. Her feet are clad in red strappy lightly-heeled sandals that have seen better days. She wears little in the way of jewelry, just a black wooden bracelet, a stainless steel and rhinestone mood ring, and (probably fake) gold earrings. When she speaks, a fairly thick Southern accent is evident.
The door to the Library half-flies open, and Felix strides in, carrying a pair of sneakers and a coat which aren't his. Energy is practically coming off him in waves, a strange mix of anger and satisfaction, and there seems to be some bruising blooming around and by one of his eyes.
Sprawled out on his stomach upon the bean bag chair is Justin. His limbs are spread out and he looks bored as he stares down at a Nintendo Power magazine from the early 90's that he scrounged out from the junk yard. Lifting his head upwards to peer at Felix, he pushes himself up. "Hey, you get in a fight?"
Lilah is leaving the makeshift kitchen area, where she's been makeshift kitchening. She's got a plate full of crackers, each lovingly arranged and festooned with a dollop of Easy Cheese. She's heading for Justin when the door flies open, and she turns quickly to see what's the what. She glances over to Justin at his question, and then looks toward Felix again, looking a bit concerned. "Howdy," she says, "...you okay?"
Felix tosses the shoes and coat aside as he walks; they hit the side of a bookshelf and slide down. "Yeah," he answers, "and yeah, I'm fine. Stupid fucker." Closer, he actually looks less fine; there's a rip in his shirt and, although black doesn't much change colour, the area around the tear and below it is darker-looking at present. He heads toward the couch, digging his smokes out his pocket and shifting up to Glabro as he goes.
".. So .. what happened? Someone jump you or something?" Justin asks as he narrows his eyes. "And is there anything left of him for me to beat on as well?" With a glance over to Lilah, he gives a wide grin to the kin. "Hey you."
Lilah nods to Justin's questions, ones she obviously shares, and offers the both of them Easy Cheese-laden crackers. "You want... a beer 'r some'm? Justin, you too?" The bulk of her attention is on Felix, and she's looking more concerned, not less.
Felix flops down on the sofa, looking for all the world as if the main effect of all this is irritation, especially when he looks down at his shirt. He lights the cigarette, and reaches over to accept a couple of those crackers, giving Lilah a quick grin. "That'd be nice," he says, and eats one of the crackers, answering Justin with his mouth full, "Yeah, asshole over a few blocks decided he wanted to make a point, an' a few bucks while he was at it. He'll survive. Prolly." He doesn't seem unduly concerned about that at present. "...don't worry, I made sure there weren't no cameras in that alley or nothin'."
"I'm sure there isn't many cameras about now as it is since this is a shit part of town." Justin says as he rolls off the bag, then pops up to his feet. "No thanks, Lilah. I'm good." He still doesn't drink beer. He's lame. "So, I got some news from Thane. He is cool with us taking over his old territory as long as we respect the garage and we can't go upstairs. No parties. Nothing that will piss him off. But there is an abandoned warehouse across the street we can throw down in."
Lilah watches Felix thoughtfully for just a moment, and then heads back over to the makeshift kitchen. Luckily for the boys, she leaves her plate of crackers behind. She fetches a beer for Felix, and a second one besides, and walks over to settle next to him on the sofa. The first beer is handed to him, and the second stays in her hand. She leans over to kiss Felix's cheek, and then turns her attention to Justin, listening but not commenting.
Felix snorts. "'cause the alley by Pugsly's girls' corner was so fuckin' upscale," he replies, and kisses Lilah on the head when she settles in beside him. "Thanks," he tells her, and opens his beer, taking a good-sized swallow to be starting with. "...a'right, that works, then. You got plans for us gettin' started there?"
"Not really. Just grab whatever you think may be needed and we'll stick it somewhere. Library is always gonna be the Gnawer hang out, but at least now we have some territory to claim and call our own and what not." Justin says as he flops back down on his beanbag. "Also some other interesting stuff came out. Looks like the spirals want to make a deal with us. There is mutiny in the tower and they are looking to deliver the mage to us, the bad guy who is the right hand man of the Queen. They want him dead because once he is, the tower will be weak and able to be attacked. So, I came up with the idea that instead of trying to make this a big deal, we just have a kin do a drive-by. When we get the word he is out of the tower, we just shoot the fuck out of him like we would a mugging. No need to go crazy with our claws and have him sense us coming. Just have a normal person shoot him and take his wallet. Thane really likes the idea, but still thinks it won't be so easy."
Lilah pops open her beer as well, giving Felix a smile for the kiss to her head. Her own first drink is pretty small. Her brows raise at the news about the Spirals, and she glances between the two of them. Her head tilts as she continues listening, but for now, she doesn't interrupt.
"I know," Felix says to the part about the Spirals and the mage, looking rather annoyed again, albeit probably not at Justin per se. He takes a drag off the cigarette as if it's personally offended him, and exhales the smoke with a sigh, leaning against Lilah a little. "Drive-by sounds like a decent arrangement, yeah. Long's it don't spill over an' get the law givin' a shit an' trackin' the shooter down. An' if it's a drive-by we ain't gettin' his wallet, but who cares, we ain't after it. Kin, though? Who you thinkin', that Walker chick with the guns?" Another sip of his beer, with a brief sidelong glance toward Lilah, then to Justin, "You still ain't thinkin' we actually move over there, right?"
"I dunno, Rina got a reputation and she has ties to the Italian mob. I bet she could probably find a sharp shooter who is mundane to do it. But, my thought process is that if one of us tries to do him, he'll sense us coming with his magic. I think the big question mark is if he can survive that kinda shit. Can he heal himself? Resurrect himself? He is really powerful." Justin gets comfy on his chair, letting his weight sink in. "And I said we are just kicking it, we aren't moving there. This is our home, the Vault area is just our turf. Someone has to watch it for the Lords while they're guardians."
"Just makin' sure we're still on the same page," Felix says, and pulls up the hem of his shirt, taking a look at the cut; it looks like it was probably fairly nasty originally, but it's mending up as well as one would expect. Well, if one were Garou, anyway. "Yeah, sounds like she might be able to," he agrees, "an' yeah, if he's, like, tuned into werewolves somehow, that'd be an issue. But also yeah, if he can survive that shit, then there's gotta be backup, not to mention in case there's more trap shit involved with things. An' that's kinda gotta be us, one way or another. Well. Maybe not US us, when I was there there was talkin' about makin' sure it was the heaviest hitters an' younger 'rou maybe takin' over Guardianing when it was gonna go down." He doesn't sound thrilled with that idea. Oddly enough. "But I reckon we'll see. I dunno that much about Mages... how d'you even find out what kinda shit they can do, aside from askin' or gettin' 'em to do it? 'cause I'm not thinkin' either of those'd be ideal."
Justin shrugs his shoulders upwards. "Either way, the kin will need protection. Thane wants to throw the whole kitchen sink at this asshole to be honest. Make sure that dead is dead. The puma mage says that he will try his very best to support us and deflect his attacks if it comes to it, but he seems to suggest he is not that strong and he may not make a difference." He smirks. "And I've been around you long enough to know when someone is bullshitting something fierce. I think this puma dude is pretty powerful but he's down playing his talents so we don't mooch him."
Felix grins. "Hey, I never bullshit," he bullshits, "...an' if I did, obviously no one'd know it. Anyway, makin' dead be dead sounds good to me. Ain't no such thing as overkill. 's either enough kill or it ain't. Just--" He breaks off suddenly, brow furrowing. "...just, I reckon we better make sure we got enough folks at the Caern, still, too. 'cause we're talkin' the same Spirals tryin' to get us away from it with riots so they can fuck it up, here. An' they're gonna know when it is we're goin' for their mage... an' they ain't expected to be there when we do. It'd be a perfect time to sidle over an' try for it."
"Yeah, I'm thinking Blitzkrieg will stay back and we should throw a few of the unpacked out there as well. Make 'em useful since they can't join up with anyone and do stuff." Justin says as he reaches for a cracker, then tucks it into his mouth with a loud crunch. "Wonder what Bella is up to tonight. Fucking full moon." He grumps. "You and I should probably head to the Caern though for a few days."
"You could always check," Felix says innocently, and has another cracker as well, washing it down with most of what's left of his beer. The last remark gets a quirked eyebrow. "How come?"
"Because it's a full moon and we're prone to going off and killing things due to werewolf PMS. It's not super safe to hang out with the girls." Justin pushes himself up. "That and it gives us some time to connect to the spirits there, breathe some fresh air and rub elbows with the guardians and Alpha."
"Ain't super safe to have me hangin' around bored an' horny, neither," Felix says dryly, "...an' stone sober an' wantin' a smoke." He has a drag on the current cigarette, and watches the smoke float into the air for a moment. "I mean, I been out there a fair amount anyhow recently, I ain't that against goin' some more. But."
"Have you tried not drinking and not smoking?" Justin gives a stretch, then heads over to his back pack and slings it over his shoulder. "Either way, I'm heading out there to crash. Figure at the least I can play hide and seek with Three Mountains all night until I get bored of not finding him."
"Not on purpose," Felix says, with a faint smirk, "Ain't like I couldn't, but I don't particularly wanna. I like doin' shit I like; I'm weird like that." He finishes off the beer, and crushes the can in his Glabro hand. Another glance at the tear in his shirt, and one at Lilah, while he considers. The tear gets a poke, and apparently passes muster, since he shifts back down to Homid. "'spose I'll go with," he decides, standing up and taking Lilah's hand to try to bring her along with him as he heads toward the stairs, "Gimme a few, though."
"Uh huh." Justin says as he leans against the door frame after yanking it open and being met with a blast of cold air. Wrinkling his nose, he zips up his jacket again, then steps out to face the city with an angry glare upon his face.
It's slightly more than a few minutes, admittedly, but not unreasonably long before Felix heads down the stairs again, alone this time. He's actually got gloves, now. And a scarf, even! No hat, though. "A'right," he says as he opens the door, glancing around for Justin, "Let's get gone."