Harbor Park is in its usual, nigh deserted state. Particularly so because the sun has set and few sane people go there at night. Basically, it's a smattering of--quite literally--mentally insane and/or drunk homeless people. Traffic passes by on Riverfront Drive to the west. All's pretty much the same as usual.

Bernie, nominally sane and not even tipsy, is one exception to the general rule; as is frequently the case, she's there picking up the litter, the various cheap malt liquor bottles and other detritus that cover the grass if unattended. Plastic dishwashing gloves, a hefty bag, and that long stick with the spike on the end -- the latest fashion in park maintenance.

Matt is feebly helping with the park clean-up, mostly bagging Bernie's trash and smoking. Every once in a while he takes a big bag of what Bernie's collected over by the fence, to take as they leave.

Flute case in hand, Kaz wanders down by the river, before she notices her packmates and makes a beeline for them.

A quartet of characters enter the park from the city. Two of them, one male, one female, and both with blond(e) hair, are clad in battered leather and jeans. The other two, one male, one female, and both with brown hair, look more like city-worn homeless people. The male with blond hair carries a large paper bag. They pass through the park and stop at a metal trash can, talking the entire time.

The metis detours around them, hardly, really, giving them a glance. Except out of the corner of her eye, while they're not noticing.

The blond, leather clad male reaches into the bag and hands out two bottles of cheap, hard liquor. The brown-haired male opens the bottle, takes a long, hard draw from it, then passes it off to the blonde female. The brown-haired female fires up a joint.

Bernie continues her work, slam-dunking an empty happy meal box into the bag, and stealing Matt's cigarette briefly. She watches the smoke make patterns in the air as she exhales, and hands the thing back, about to return to her work when she spots Kaz's approach. "Hey!" she calls in greeting.

Considering Kaz's roommate, marijuana is not precisely something she can disapprove of, so Kaz merely yells, "Beeeern!" and keeps going.

The blonde female puts the bottle to her lips and tips it up, then down, then passes it on to the brown-haired woman opposite her. She, in turn, exchanges the doobie for the hootch. The brown-haired male converses quietly with the blond male.

Matt seems a bit distant, distracted. No wonder Bernie has no difficulty snagging his smoke. He squints into the night beyond the hooch and nootch bunch, sniffing, apparently at the pungent scent of weed.

Bernie grins at Kaz, though the little group get a vaguely worried glance, then. People in the park is good, and nothing wrong with a little light intoxicating substances, but both at once, she isn't so sure about.

Kaz perches up on a bench, doing no work whatsoever, and says, "Quite the fuckin' night, ain't it?"

The joint and booze make their rounds between the four people clustered around the trash can. They might be tempted to light a fire in it if it weren't summer, maybe. But drinking and getting high pretty much seems to be their purpose in the park. Not an entirely unusual modus operandi for this area of town.

Kaz raises her head warily and actually looks at the kids straight on for a moment, then she drops her head, shrugs with a faint grin. She mutters something to her packmates, and then levers herself off the bench again. "Riiight. I'll catch you onna flip side."

From afar, to Bernie and Matt, Kaz eyes the teens warily. "Don't smell of Wyrm, but how the fuck would you tell, around here? Keep an eye on 'em, people. Try'n get names, specially. I'm gonna go talk t'Elan about, um, a few things. Relevant to who these might be."

Pack> Matt says "They doan't smell o' th' Wyrm, an' that one isn't 'uman? 'e doesn't smell like a garou, or kin, so what else is there?"

Pack> Kaz says, vaguely grimly, "Leeches. That's why I said they may not smell, but it's fuckin' hard to tell, around here. An' /that's/ why I'm gonna go talk t'Elan, he knows shit, he does."

Meanwhile, the blonde male moves closer to the blonde female currently enjoying the doobie. She passes it to him as he cops a feel of her right ass cheek. The brown-haired guy now has the booze and seems pretty intent on drinking himself into oblivion.

Kaz actually pulls off looking nonchalant, as she wanders off.

Matt frowns suddenly, but continues to bag trash. His brow is furrowed in thought, and he edges around the open bag toward Bernie.

Pack> Matt says "Leeches? Whossat mean?"

Pack> Kaz says, a hint of teeth in her voice, "Vampires."

Bernie watches after Kaz a second, before glancing sidelong at Matt, and stepping in closer to him, apparently to drop several more bits of trash into the bag.

The group continues drinking and talking and smoking. One bum further to the north of the park gets up from his bench, staggers and totters dangerously, then bends over to vomit stale alcohol and whatever it was he recently ate out of a dumpster.

Pack> Bernie says "...Vampires? For real?" A pause, and a slight nervousness in the joke, "...guess we could check if that's a bloody mary..."

Matt's expression changes abruptly from one of befuddled consternation to surprising revelation. He goes back to bagging trash then, bending down to tie off this bag and pull another one off the roll.

Bernie steals the cigarette again, pausing in her work, and cocks her head questioningly at her packmate as he switches the bags.

Pack> Bernie says "So... one's not human... which one?"

The blonde male starts speaking with the brown-haired woman, moving closer to her and passing off the doobie to her along with a fresh one. The blonde female purses her lips as he moves away, accepting the now half empty bottle from the brown-haired man, who attempts to strike up a conversation with her while the other male is preoccupied.

Pack> Matt says "Blonde bloke. Waiting fer 'im ta do somefin'...Vampirish. *mental shrug*"

Bernie nods a little, and returns the cigarette, glancing toward the little group.

Pack> Bernie says "...and what do we do if he does?"

Matt points out an uncleaned area to Bernie, one a little closer and to one side of the bench the party has taken over. "Next?" he grumbles.

Pack> Matt says "Flip out? Run away? Fook if Oi know. Do they come in nests? Oi'd say follow 'im back to the lair..."

Bernie nods again, twirling her trashstick in an altogether dangerously unwise manner, one that would have any self-respecting mother making remarks in the family of 'don't run with scissors'. Hoisting her paraphernalia, she starts toward the indicated spot.

Pack> Bernie says "Sounds good to me. We can do a little recon and then maybe do something... get people, or... whatever. I mean, Vampires are Wyrmy, right? So I guess we combat them. Where they dwell and breed, and all."

The blonde male takes the joint from the brown-haired woman's mouth, leans in, and starts kissing her. First on the lips, then venturing off to the forehead and then down to the cheek. Taking another swig of hootch, the brownhaired man makes his move on the blonde female, and seems to score some first base action as well.

Matt raises an eyebrow, and glances at Bernie. Still, he opens the new bag, and holds it for her.

The leather-clad blond male starts necking on the brown-haired woman. The other guy, the brown-haired one, seems to be making some headway with the blonde female, too.

Pack> Matt says "Can ye tell if 'es /bitin'/ 'er? Oi can't see from 'ere."

Bernie pauses, picking up an old beer can, and peers toward the apparently distracted couples for a moment or two, before turning to drop it in the bag, with a hint of a shrug toward Matt.

Pack> Bernie says "Can't tell. I mean... well, she seems to be enjoying it enough...."
...the hint of a blush, too.

The foreplay by both couples continues, though the blonde woman and brown-haired man seem to be working more on the alcohol than foreplay for the time being. The puking bum from up north staggers his way out of the park and nearly gets run over as he enters the street without looking. Tires screech and a horn honks irritatedly. Someone yells something obscene.

Matt frowns a little, paying less attention to his job than he is the knot of lovebirds on their bench. He does look toward the commotion in the street, as it happens.

The foursome, in a pause in the action, discusses something briefly and begins gathering up their stuff.

Bernie glances from the orgy waiting to happen to Matt, and arches a brow, silently. Another few cans and papers end up in his bag.

Pack> Bernie says "So. Shall we follow? At least we might know where to find The Count again."

Pack> Matt says "Or at least get a good look at 'im."

Matt ducks back into his work whenever one of the four glances his way, but otherwise keeps them under observation.

Having gathered up their stuff, the group begins heading out of the park.

Bernie glances at Matt again, sticking her pole momentarily into the ground, and then looks toward the retreating group. The eyebrow arches again as she looks back.

Pack> Bernie says "Shall we?"

Pack> Matt says "We shall. For a while."

Matt takes the last of the trash, and heaves the bag back toward the full one he tied up earlier.

Bernie strips off her gloves, shoving them into the ziploc baggie in her pocket, and reclaims her stick, popping the spike back out of the dirt.

The group exits the park and moves off down a street into the city.

Pack> Matt says "homid or lupus? Oi'm a bit distinctive in th' wolf."

Pack> Bernie says "I was thinking homid. Don't really wanna shift in front of the denizens here, anyway. We can change somewhere more private if we need to, I figure."

Pack> Matt says "right-o. Better be off, if we doan't want ta lose 'em."

Matt takes the bag to the fence, conveniently in the direction the group left. He leaves the bag just inside the park, but follows.

Bernie walks along with him, casually, depositing one of the other bags in the same place.

Tskilegwa pages to the room: At this point, they get into a cab and leave. It's way too late to do anything now.
Matt pages to the room: other than remember what Blondie looks like. :)
Long distance to the room: Bernie nods.
Tskilegwa pages to the room: Yup.