Rotem is laying on one of the pews, his watergun under the pew, and his box of stuff next to it.

Kaz pushes into the Church with her back to the doors, talking to Bernie as she goes. "...Yeah, the kid's tryinna get offa drugs, so we keep kinda doin' him favors, only he dunno it's us, 'cause, well, why the fuck would any've us be doin' him favors? He's a real prep fucker, so I think he'd stare at us like we were insane, if he knew it was us." She breaks off to turn around, and add, loudly, "YO! What goes on?" Evidently, Kaz is in a good mood. Also, she's got fried chicken. In a large bucket.

Rotem lifts his head from the pew, looking to Kaz. "Heya." he calls out, then leands back down. "Not much." he yells from out of sight.

Bernie hehs, and nods, following the Galliard in. She seems to be limping just slightly; nothing too immediately eyecatching, but there. "Cool, then. Good t' know." She catches a glimpse of the cub's movement, and calls out a casual greeting, "Hey, Roto-rooter. 'sup?"

Rotem lifts his head again from the pew, looking to Bernie for a moment, then in a flash he is running towards her, jumping on her and tossing his arms about her. "BURRRRNNNS!" he calls out happilly. "Where you beeeeeeen?"

Kaz shrugs. "Yeah. Just the kinda small shit we actually kinda /wanna/ be dealin' with, in addition to the asskickin' stuff." She gets quickly out of the way as Rotem arrives, grinning slightly.

Bernie squeaks as she's attacked, and almost loses her balance. "Whoawhoawhoa watch th' leg!" she exclaims, grabbing onto the closest pew, and returning the hug one-armed, briefly. "Sheesh. Y'd think I dis'peared t' Abu Dhabi for a month," she remarks, not sounding altogether upset about being missed. "I was off Ritin', see," she explains, terribly casual again.

Rotem looks to her, eyes wide. "No shit? You went cliath on me? Geeze, bitch." he smiles, obviously joking. "You gotta tell me all about it."

Kaz grins. After offering Rotem some chicken, she takes a few pieces for herself, and settles down into a pew.

Rotem declines the chicken but takes the bucket. "KFC is of the wyrm. You cant eat that." he remarks, putting it on the pew across from KAz.

Kaz, eating it just fine, shrugs. "I eat what I can afford, dude."

Rotem shakes his head. "I'll find you something else, just not KFC. Jarred says that place is tainted to hell and back."

Bernie finds herself a good seat in one of the pews, and drapes there. "Yup. I'm 'ficially Cliath an' everythin', now. Tada!" She doesn't pay a lot of attention to the chicken debate, not being particularly hungry just now.

Rotem smiles happilly. "Finnally a cliath I can beat up on a regular basis!" Rotem raises his hands upwards. "Thank the lord!"

Kaz just shrugs on that chicken thing. "Whatever dude. Your loss." There's a brief, pregnant pause, and then she adds, casually gnawing on a piece of chicken, "You c'n take /that/ one, Bern..."

Bernie arches a brow at the cub. "Th' fuck you say," she retorts dryly, "ain't gonna be onea those 'til =you= Rite, an' then y' c'n kick yer =own= ass 'round th' block, 'f y'wanna."

Rotem smirks. "Why dont you put your money where your mouth is, cliath." He smirks happilly. "Come on, I can take ya." he smiles, looking to Bernie. "Unless your as chicken as what is in the bucket.

Kaz puts down the bucket carefully, but seems to be leaving this to Bernie, for the moment. Other than paying a lot of attention.

Bernie eyes the cub, one eyebrow still arched, and gives him a slow up and down, rather unimpressed look. "Lessee here. So whatcher sayin' is, you wanna chance t' try an' beat on me, an' if I d'cide I'd rather save my energy for important shit, that makes me a coward or somethin', huh? Fuck that. Been limping for two days from havin' freakin' Wyrm creatures burrowin' through my leg, an' I got shit t' =do= 'round here, more important than pissin' contests with cubs. Or anyone else, for that matter. 's kina moot, anyway; maybe you'd win th' fight, bein' Ahroun an' all, maybe I would; point's not whether you =can= beat me up, 's whether I happen t' feel like lettin' ya =try=. An' I don't. An', so sorry, I ain't lettin' anyone manipulate me inta shit with third-grade playground tactics, either."

Kaz goes back to eating chicken.

Rotem snickers. "Thought so." is how he chooses to reply. "I'm staying a cub if cliath means you suddendly turn into a prick." he slips into the pew across from Kaz. "Was nice to know Burns. Let me know if she comes back sometime."

Kaz gives the cub a very long look. She licks her fingers, as if to give herself time, and then finally says, "Is there some particular /reason/ you're trying to goad me into doing something, here, or are you just having fun being a moron?"

Rotem glances to Kaz. "I'm not trying anything. She was a cub, and was cool, nice. Then she went Cliath and turned into a prick. I don't know what the Rite is, but I don't want one if that is what it does to you."

Bernie snorts lightly at the cub, herself, with something resembling a half-smile. "Guess we'd better be real careful t' oblige that li'l desire," she remarks airily, "since y'act likea prick more'n your share as it is. An' right now, you're actin' like a childish one, at that. Y'don't get your way, so that makes me a prick? So be it." She shrugs a little; though the change she's been accused of is, at best, debatable, there does seem to be a shade more confidence there than there used to be.

Kaz asks, on the heels of this, "So. Because Bernie don't wanna fight you, because she's tellin' you she outranks you, she's a prick? I just wanna get this straight." She doesn't sound hugely angry, but there's a restless tilt to her posture, as she leans against the pew, that bodes somewhat ill.

Rotem nods. "Yeah. I'm never pulling rank on M'friends. That makes you a prick."

Kaz chews on her lip. "That, m'boy, is why you have /no/ conception of what it actually means to be a Garou yet. Want me to explain just what the hell I mean?"

Rotem nods. "Yeah, why not."

Bernie eases back in her seat on the pew a bit, letting Kaz deal with things as she wishes. She may be Cliath now herself, but the Galliard still outranks her.

Kaz cracks her knuckles. "We are, to put it very briefly, a military society. We always have been, we always will be. That /means/ something. Even when we're just shittin' around in here, it means somethin'. Ask Max sometime -- I'm probably her best friend on the planet, but I'm also her Alpha, and that means that I /can/ order her around, and it means that, even when we're just playin' around, I /am/ dominant to her. And she accepts that. More'n that, she /agrees/ with it. And there's a /reason/ this is important. Because I don't care if you're here, in the Caern, or in Timbukfuckin'tu, we are Garou, and we have to be ready at /all/ times. Every moment." She pauses to munch on chicken. "And if you think normal, non Garou friends don't have a peckin' order, a rank between them? You're not paying attention. /Everyone/ has some kinda chain of dominance and submission, it's just most places outside of the military, Garou society, and weird ass sex clubs just avoid /talkin'/ about it, because they don't like havin' to think of themselves as subordinate to someone else."

Rotem sighs. "Another fucking perk. Ain't life grand."

Kaz stares at him over the edge of her chicken. "I'm sorry, is this a /new/ thought for you? What the hell do you think the Litany /means/?"

Rotem sighs. "Yeah. Whatever. Litany or not, friends are friends. If you want ranks, fine. No problem. I'll just remember that if I want friends, they wont be Groo."

Bernie tilts her head slightly as she regards the cub. "This is somethin' you never noticed?" she asks, "pretty damn sure I r'member explainin' it t' ya at least once, back when you were preppin' t' getcherself killed. Either way..." she pauses as he speaks, "...either way, y'don' =feel= it?" Her brow furrows a bit. "An' I always outranked ya, cub or not, friend or not. An' as an aside, just so's y'know, I wouldn'ta letcha manipulate me inta a fight last week, either."

Kaz honestly seems confused about this, as well. "Dude. If I wasn't friends with Max, I wouldn't be who I am today. You wanna give this kinda shit up?" She shakes her head. "I don' get it."

Rotem says "You outrank me now, Bernie, But if I ever outrank you, you can bet your ass I'm going to milk it to death."

Rotem says "And do me a favor, don't ever call me a friend. Ever."