Always 'On Call' ( Tag Dev)

[Vaydra]

Dregg's - A bar and nightclub in Exeter (Devon, UK)

Time 6:45 PM.



Vaydra had gotten a call about ten minutes past the hour from the bar. Her cousin George had told the owner of his favorite place once that she was a computer whiz, and could hack into anything. He was a well-meaning idiot, but an idiot none-the-less, because now at least once a month or so, George was calling her on the bar's behalf.
As long as he paid, and as long as it wasn't overly illegal, Vaydra kept her mouth shut on the matter, and pocketed a small fee for helping out with their technology issues.

Tonight was no different, really. Except less than twelve hours ago, she'd been resting up after a rough fight. Seth had recently returned to town and unfortunately had been followed. Not exactly common for the Strider, but even she had to admit she only knew her former pack mate as well as he allowed himself to be known. Still, her and Thomas had taken care of it, repaying a debt to an old friend. It was just understood, not just for his sake, but the sake of the city and all of that. Things had been relatively quiet lately, and that could mean something bigger was coming or not. It was better to keep skills sharpened either way.

Her jacket was doing little against the cold, but she pushed on, the promise of money lining her pocket and a warm, though noisy building her driving force.

The windows were steamed slightly on the inside of dregs around the edges, due to both the temperature difference and the number of people inside taking advantage of the heat. Vaydra stepped in and stuffed her hat into one of her coat pockets. A few guys gave her the once over with their eyes, but many knew enough about her to leave well enough alone and she didn't really stop to talk, aside from nod at one or two familiar faces.

Miles, the owner was on the phone with his back to her when she slid around behind the bar to his office. She didn't have to see his face to feel the sneer on his lips or the vein on the side of his neck twitching. "Look come on, what the hell am I paying you jokers for internet service here if nothing goddamned works half the friggin' time? You come out here and claim it's sorted, but it goes down days later! I ain't been late or nothing, so this is unacceptable!"

The middle-aged fairly well dressed man ran a hand through his hair and listened. Vaydra's ears could just pick up the tone on the other end matching Mile's annoyance, but no words, not in the din of whatever sporting event the blokes around the bar behind her were cheering on. He glanced her way then, nodding to acknowledge her and held up a finger to let her know he'd be off in a moment.

"I'm tired of this, I pay your service fees and I even bought the server and wireless port from you. It's a bar not a damned library so it's not like I need much, but I need it to work, damnit! I've got someone here who can help me more than you can it seems so I'm off. I'm going to call back Monday, and I swear someone better get down here and replace this stuff with something that lasts more than a month without dropping connections! Or I'll find a better company that will hear me? Tell Mr. Westco Miles Braelin ain't happy!"

Miles set the reciever down roughly and rubbed his temple, shaking his head. "Goddamn it, I am so sick of companies treating small businesses like their money isn't just as good as the big guys. Giving me subpar crap to...."

He trailed off glancing up at the slightly larger woman leaning against the door jam expectantly. "Err.....George called you and you actually came? My lucky night."

Vaydra smirked, brushing off the slight flirty look he gave her as usual. "Tech support at your service. It's a living, right? You're just lucky I like George. Is the server still where I moved it last?"

He nodded after pausing to brush off the snub. He ought to know by now, the 22 year old didn't really cater to anyone, let alone someone close to double her age. "Yep, didn't touch it, just like I promised. Didn't do a damn thing to it this time, and it's still gone down. Again."

He lead her on her way to the small room on the other side of the bar and unlocked the door for her. It had been a storage closet, but he'd had the thing cleared out at her request. Too many employees had access to it in the old location in a back hallway, and originally she'd expected one of them of tampering. Not so sure now, Miles might even be right about the equipment itself. She wasn't going to bring in new parts, but she was likely able to patch it up so it would keep running a while longer. At least until the company gave him something sturdier to use. He was right, it was just a bar. The net was nice though, now that technology was becoming so popular.

In about half an hour she guessed, it was back up and running. A fried cable looked to be the worst part of it, and trimming the part off and splicing the good bits back together was enough to bring it back up. Low tech fix for high technology. She took a few more minutes to run a virus scan on his stuff as well, because any place the public used internet, you couldn't really be too careful as to who or what logged on and in. Once it was settled up, it was time for her to settle up too, so she found Miles again, this time enjoying a drink at the bar.

She slid the keys to the door over to him across the bar. "Locked and loaded, and with any luck it will hold you at least until the company gets off their asses and sends someone next week."

Miles nodded towards the tender and tapped the bar in front of the blonde. A pint of her usual quickly manifested. Vaydra couldn't help but smile. "You told me I get two if I finish in under 30 minutes. I clocked it at 28:43."

The older man chuckled. "That you do. Thanks for saving my ass again. Georgie's done well in finding you to help me out." With that, he slid a small bundle of notes into the hand that she had flat against the bar and stood up. "Stick around after you finish, could do you some good to loosen up, huh?"

He winked at her as he disappeared into the bar, likely to attend to any of a number of minor issues before slipping back into his office to play online poker. He was likely out of her hair for the night. A brief glance at the cash he'd given her told her it was about what he usually paid. He might be a lot of things, but he was good for his promises and debts. Vaydra eased herself onto the bar stool and sipped the her drink, watching the few drunks brave enough to attempt dancing do so in style on the slightly scuffed floor. George wasn't here, which was probably smart of him. She'd deal with him later on at the house.

[Devon alNailo]

"Why is the darts telly turned to that bloody Yank sport?"
"Because that bloody massive yank sitting in the corner has the remote."
"Time to change that..."

A trio of men, talking as they came by, moved passed Vaydra on their way to the back area of the pub. It was a slightly elevated area, up a step or two, that housed a dart board and a billiards table along with a video poker machine that didn't pay out money (which was the only reason it was allowed to be there). There was one, lone, tall, round topped table with a trio of tall chairs surrounding it set in the corner of the platform along where the rail met the wall. Upon one of those chairs was, indeed, a fairly large young man with black hair that... oddly in that light one could swear his hair had black on black stripes in it... never the less.

The thing that was likely to gain the most attention was the fact that though he had a denim jacket with a hooded sweatshirt sewed into it, he was otherwise dressed as if it were early fall in the country. Standard jeans, a set of black tactical style boots like police and EMS liked to wear, and a white, sleeveless t-shirt that was doing its best not to cling to his developed musculature. Of course, right after those features, was the fact that the Get of Fenris tribal symbol was proudly emblazoned high on his right arm. He was eating a plate of pub made Fish & Chips, stoically staring down the tv, when the three arrived.

Their leader walked right up and snatched the remote off the table. "Right, that's enough of that bollocksHUH!" The loud crack that accompanied his head bouncing off the table got -everyone's- attention just in time to see the Get snatch the remote from the man's loose fingers before the local collapsed entirely to the floor in a boneless heap. The Get said not a word as he set the remote back exactly where it had been, as if he hadn't just reached out and snatched the man's head down onto the table hard enough to knock him clean out.

After several long moments, a simple sentence came out. "I disagree." Two words, heard all across the bar in the wake of the stunned silence.

[Vaydra]

Vaydra eyed the men as they passed by her, knowing all too well what a fight the television was in the dart area on any given night. That was completely normal, really. What was a little less common, of course was the fact some 'Yank' had control of it, or was even here in the first place. Tiny dive bar? No, most of them would head for the shining chrome bar in the center of Exeter. She forgot the exact name of it, Sullvan's Publik or something. But this guy had wandered into a hole in the wall and she found her eyes following the direction of the rowdy locals to catch a glimpse.

Big guy. Vaydra herself was pretty built up herself. Far more than any 'normal' sort of girl. Good genes, and a lot of hard work had seen to that. Kept most of the riff-raff off of her, and that was an added bonus. But he was big.....tough looking too. Had the guys been a bit more sober, they might have been smart enough to size up the situation first. But it didn't look for a second that they were slowing down. The blonde lifted her pint to her lips again, mostly to hide the smirk.

It died a bit on her face as she caught sight of the emblem on him, eyes widening. Of course. All the scents in here, and commotion with the router. Had he been here the whole time? Very possible, and Vaydra had been somewhat oblivious. Well, entirely. But she wasn't about to let the thoughts wander far. Before she could figure out if she was going to stick around and see if this guy was going to pick her out of the crowd or not, one of the men had went and swiped for the remote. To her surprise, he actually got it in his hand. However, unsurprising was that as he was turning to line up the clicker with the television, his head met the table, and hard. The sound rose above the general din of the bar and like a wave, cancelled each one out until all heads were turned, mouths hanging open. All eyes were on the big American and the guy almost motionless on the floor in front of him. She couldn't tell if he was afraid to move, or too injured from this distance.

She sipped her pint once more and set the glass down, patting her pockets for her cash. Slowly, people started moving. One of the bartenders started to inch back towards Miles' office, keeping an eye on the dart area. The other two men hat had come for the remote looked at one another then their friend. "Hey, Bloody Yank. Ain't ya got manners? This ain't your bar, ain't your telly."

While the other one was talking, a few who were off in the bar started to move in closer, expecting a fight. None were chanting yet, but this was obviously the most interesting thing going on in the bar so a crowd was going to do what crowds did, she supposed. With a small sigh, and all semblance of casual interest, she finished her pint, then slid off the bar stool to see what was going to happen. Just his presence was worth looking into.
As she sidled up to the others standing a bit back to give them space, the bloke who'd spoken, one Vaydra vaguely recalled was named Sam grabbed the edge of the table and shoved it into the seated man, so food and remote went sliding towards the edge.

Drunk people weren't smart, that was a given. Sam was likely to see how much he lacked momentarily. Vaydra braced herself, calm on the surface, but a fight was brewing now and would not likely stop. Adrenaline was a potent thing too.

[Devon alNailo]

"I'm German, Greek, and Indo-Asian. Just happen to have been born and raised in Ohio." He spoke, but it was fairly quiet as it was a distracted conversational aside to the person who had called him Yank. No venom, no Rage, no warning. The strapping young man continued to watch the television as if nothing in the world was wrong... at least to people who didn't know what the beginning of a one sided ass kicking looked like. His shoulders rolled up and forward slowly in anticipation of the conflict, an instinctual response to the threat to his person the gathering storm presented. And then they did something really foolish. They assaulted him in such a way that it affected his food.

Using the table came as a surprise to Devon, he'd expected a more direct assault from the quasi-inebriated opponents. Without conscious thought he quickly adjusted his opinion of his opponents as appropriate given the new information. They were obviously experienced in the art of combat while intoxicated, their tactics tested and refined as much as possible. Or at least that was what was going on in his mind. Physically, Devon grabbed at the edge of the table reflexively before making a grab with his off hand for his food plate. All he managed, unfortunately, was to tilt it with his finger tips before all of his dinner went on the floor. Bared teeth flashed at the attacker and the pressure that bared Rage created in the air filled the room.

He couldn't push back very well, his chair was too high and was starting to tilt backward, so he changed the angle. Dev ripped the table to the side, toward the attacker's closest allies, and lunged forward with an elbow block that took the man across the chest stiffly. It wasn't meant to damage, just to control the range of his opponent. The guy took a step back and Devon unleashed a powerful overhand right that smashed into the center of the guy's face like a freight train. The crunch of cartilage almost made up for the popping sound that Devon's hand made upon impact. The pain seared and Devon did what Ahroun did best, turned it into Rage and then turned his Rage on the next guy.

It was always the same story. One or two more would make a go of it and if they didn't gain any traction the rest would call it a done deal. No human was ever ready for a Garou opponent, not really, but brawler number three made a great go of it. Devon came out of his over blown punch to catch left hook to his cheek that snapped his head around and gave the attacker a chance to follow up. He went to the body, smart that, and focused on the rear corner of Devon's rib cage. Two more hits before Devon spun with one. He raised his arm high as he came around, hooked the attacker's legs with his left, and then he swept a powerful clothesline strike with his left arm that brought the guy's head to the ground in an arc like a falling tree. Just a lot faster.

The original was working on standing up, had gotten one foot under him, when he looked up to find Devon staring at him disapprovingly. It took a couple of moments of sheer terror before the inner sheep in the mere human decided it was best to lay back down quietly. Devon grunted his approval of the decision before shooting a longing look at his wasted food and grabbing his bag and leather jacket as he headed for the door.

[Vaydra]

She was biding her time. Mostly because it wasn't her fight.....yet. Partially because it did her well to watch this newcomer and how he handled the situation. Vaydra might learn a scrap or two things worth knowing about him that she'd have missed if she nosed in. Did he know she was here? She couldn't say, but the hair on the back of her neck was standing a bit on end at the nagging notion.

He spoke, declaring his heritage and she arched a brow. Odd set of places, but with someone from the States it wasn't unheard of at all. Then, the guys got mad enough about what the bloke had done to their friend, they decided to hit the man by ruining his food. Just a hair too slow, the plate clattered to the floor spilling fish, chips, and tartar sauce down. "Oh boy..." She breathed out as the slight wave of pressure hit. Tension, rage? Whatever it was was felt by more than just her, and the rest of the patrons for the most part stayed hushed.

The table flew off to the side a split second later and the crowds' collective gaze followed it as it knocked into one of the guys, sending him sprawling with a groan of pain. The elbow caught the original table tosser and Vaydra could only watch his fate. Looked like a broken cheek for sure by her count. Hard enough that it might have even hurt the Get. Didn't take much to set one off from what she'd heard and seen once or twice. Seeing that, anyone in the crowd who'd been moving closer to possibly step in, moved right on back. Miles had stuck his head out of the doorway, sized up the situation, and signaled a big man at the door. "Cut it out you lot, or I'll call the authorities!"

His words went mostly unheeded by all as the third guy moved in. He lasted longer, actually got a good hit or two in before the stranger took him out too. He hit the floor with a groan, grabbing at his nose with both hands. The first guy was standing, likely letting the liquor fuel him more than his actual physical ability. A glare from the big Yankee had him frozen to the spot, however. The hush over the crowd began to dissipate as a murmur went through about it being over.

The door guy had almost hit the bar area to break up the fight, but slowed to a stop as the combatants were all down save the one. He grabbed his stuff then and moved to the door. Not one person got in his way, though the brave security for the bar, Ricky if she recalled right, did follow a couple of paces behind, slow and not aggressively as it looked like the guy would find his own way. You could feel the room start to come alive again. By the time those drunks got their feet under them, they'd not have a chance at following. But, Vaydra had no such hindrances and the benefit of curiosity and caution.

As one of the staff rushed in to attend to the fallen, and another looking pissed came out with the mop and brooms, she turned on her heel and moved to the door too. Miles and his bar would be fine without her. This guy, however could be trouble and she'd be damned if she let him out of her sights without figuring it out. As she moved, she pulled her phone and sent a message to George and Pam. -Might be late, might not. Don't wait up.-

They'd hate that, especially Pam, but oh well. Sometimes business was business, and kin should stay behind. He had gotten about a block or so ahead of her out into the night by the time she got to the street, but the shape of him was hard to miss. Everything about his posture still said not to get too close yet, and she was smart enough to hang back and be ready if he turned. She made sure the street was fairly empty before calling out.
"Well, I thought Hooligans were fanatic, but you outdid even them."

She braced herself to see if he'd stop or move at her. That much rage didn't just disappear right away. Adrenaline alone took a while so anything could happen.

[Devon alNailo]

Dev appeared to steadfastly ignored the security guy following him toward the door, while at the same time warily watching the fellow in the reflection of the front glass. of the pub just in case. Once out in the cold he maneuvered his jacket on and one-strapped his duffel over his left shoulder as he proceeded to make distance. And yet, he only made it about a block and a half before he sensed somebody closing in with him from behind. Grinding his molars at the prospect of someone coming after him for a prospective round two, he tensed up in preparation only to snort as he heard a female voice make conversation.

Still, he wasn't that kind of Fenrir so he stopped and turned on the speaker as he dropped his duffel down to stand next to his leg. He'd had enough snarling matches with members of his mother's tribe not to underestimate a female voice. "They should have just asked, messing up my food was their fuck up." He eyed the female more fully once a couple of heartbeats had gone by without violence or the appearance of it being on its way. As for the rest, football had been the only sport he could find on that television that he understood or wasn't full of grown men pretending to be hurt every time somebody bumped into them. Soccer was worse than basketball for that kind of BS.

"What do you want?"

[Vaydra]

Vaydra suppressed a smirk."You are surprised a bunch of drunk locals made a bad choice or two? If they had manners, alcohol's pretty good at making them disappear. Often nightly." Her tone was cautious with a slight twinge of amusement. On guard, but the fact he hadn't turned to curse her, or chase her off was promising enough. Maybe some of what she'd heard at least about those of his tribe was a lot of rubbish. Would be nice for once.

It seemed he'd been expecting her to charge him as well, and with each breath that passed between the space they didn't occupy, a little of that expectation; that tension drained back into the reserves. They stared at one another for a moment or two as a car passed by, going a bit too fast for safety, and turned right past the young man. Looked about her age maybe. Her questions were bubbling up, but his broke free first. Vaydra tilted her head slightly to study him under the street lamp a bit better as she thought it over.

"What do I want?" She repeated. "I guess I'm just curious why an outsider would find his way into a run down dump like Dreggs. Most tourists find their way down the big, well lit roads, and save their taste of the 'local flavors' for daylight. You seem......different."

She wasn't a fool. Until she knew friend or foe, she'd keep her cards covered. Her phone beeped in her pocket, but she ignored it entirely as she kept her eyes on him.

[Devon alNailo]

"Drink your milk, eat your wheaties, and when you're my size you'll be surprised any time somebody loses their sense of politeness." He turned his head, cracking his neck as he waited for the other shoe to drop. Why was that woman talking to him? What was the play? There were two ready possibilities, of course. The first was she was an adrenaline junkie, attracted by the violence or maybe even the Rage that had permeated the air when he'd gotten angry. It wasn't unheard of, especially amongst unknowing or so-called 'lost' Kinfolk. It ignited certain fires.

The other option, she was working an angle. Criminal, usually. Uncle Rand had warned against that kind of thing before Dev had left for Europe, especially Romani women. Problem was, even Uncle Rand had a hard time putting into words how to identify the Romani before a certain point. Usually when it was too late to do anything but shift to war form and shred them, then go through their stuff to recoup losses.

"I'm not a tourist, and I'm not afraid of the dark." Dev looked her over once more, openly. "Unless that isn't the local flavor you were talking about?" He could admit to himself he was willing to pick up a lass if it meant a place to stay while he was wandering, but if that was what she was up to she'd picked somebody with no place to shelter her for the moment. He'd been finding empty corners in abandoned or empty buildings, shifting lupus, and sleeping as such as he wandered Britain.

[Vaydra]

Vaydra resisted the urge to snort. He might not be entirely wrong in his assumptions that size might put off the sober soul, but she doubted any of those particular louts were. "Drinking makes people bolder than they otherwise would be. That and taking the dart telly I suppose. The food was uncalled for."

It seemed she had his curiosity, at least, and he wasn't about to charge her or dash off. He hadn't figured her out yet, and that was good. She didn't want to give anything away on the off chance she was wrong about him. Her instincts usually served her better than that, but no one was perfect. He looked her over and she let a smile filter through her features, taking both hands out of pockets so he could see her hands were empty aside from the wool gloves she had to keep her hands warm. Vaydra licked her lips a bit and gave him a once over with her eyes too.
She let the smile grow a bit wider for a moment, but still deliberately didn't chuckle outright as she shook her head. A female stopping a male on the street in a less than pristine part of town....yeah she now saw the problem and worked to dismiss the potential confusion. "I meant nothing other than what I said. You certainly don't seem the type to be afraid of anything. Not in your chemistry."

She let that sink in a moment before inwardly bracing herself. She'd wasted enough time on both their parts. There was a small chance he was just some wandering kinfolk, or someone who'd by sheer dumb luck picked it as the clip art for their ink to impress something with a vacant stare and a short skirt. Time to see which.
"Noticed your tattoo in the bar. Not common here, but familiar to me."

[Devon alNailo]

"It might make smart people a bit dumber, but it doesn't make stupid people smarter. I get it. Messing with my food is suicidal, though." He finally snorted to clear his nose and looked around as if preparing to pick a direction and leave. His stomach grumbled to underscore both his flagging interest in the conversation and his reasons for wanting to move along in the not too distant future.

He picked up his bag when she declared she was just making small talk. It was still weird but at least it wasn't something he was going to have to make a very direct and assertive statement to brush off. He preferred to only be aggressive when he meant to be aggressive. Admittedly, that was a lot of the time but not every Ahroun was going to be blessed with his Grandfather's patience. "I'm not, and it isn't." She'd called that right on the spot and he had to wonder if she was working her way up to something that would shift the conversation to the other side of the veil. She could be a Kinfolk, or another Garou for all he knew, who had decided to say howdy. If she turned out to be either it would be nice to bed down on a Caern for the night.

And there it was. She pointed out his tribal glyph and put it all to rest. "Plenty common, actually. Just not usually tattooed for various reasons." Too many enemies had gotten too well informed over the years, advertising any detail of association tended to make one a target, but since Devon Nailo had declared himself High Jarl and begun his gathering of forces in North America... well, those who were loyal had caught on to the fact that the time for hiding was coming to a close. Open war was on the horizon and the enemy deserved to see the 'banner' raised. Nope, the real 'secret' that caused problems was the one that he pretty much handed out first thing to strangers. His introduction.

"Devon al'Nailo, Ice Claw of the Nation, Cliath Ahroun of the Fenrir." He waved with his free hand, the other had a thumb hooked behind the strap of his duffel.