Tabitha Kavelin: Maybe that's step one of me getting you back for those hot dog jokes.

J.T. Sincaid: What's step two slingshots and gobstoppers?

Erin Madigan: "How'dya wanna do this? First blood? First surrender. First one knocked out?"

Tabitha Kavelin: J.T: You must not've heard when I told Mercury... I do web design and illustration. *She nods* Big impressive stuff, right? Pixels here, pixels there, and still didn't get hired to work on Quake IV. *Wrinkles her nose*

Tabitha Kavelin: Rubber bands and juju fruits.

Stephen Culligan: Knocked oot, o'caerse, *he says with a wrinkle of his nose.* Oi'll nae be cootin'. Joost a good clean spar.

J.T. Sincaid: You're a GlassWalker? *he asks bluntly of Tabitha, she sounds like a Walker*

Tabitha Kavelin: JT: Kinfolk. *She nods, smiling a touch*

Erin Madigan: She nods and tries her best fist slam into his stomach.

Erin Madigan: d10: : 9,2,2,6,9,3,

J.T. Sincaid: Oh...that's cool. *he laughs a bit his mood is definately more reserved than it was just an hour ago when he was almost unbelievably loud and boisterous* You been living in the city long? *he asks quietly of Tabitha*

Tabitha Kavelin: This one? *She shrugs* Kinda new... Two months or so.

J.T. Sincaid: Where do you live? Can't be that close by....less you're unbelievably wealthy? *he says with another quiet laugh as he leans back against one of the stone benches although he continues to sit on the cold ground*

Erin Madigan: d10: dam: 4,6,7,7,8,

Stephen Culligan: d10: Soak: 8,1,8,8,

Erin Madigan: Apparently she can hit, but Stephen's tough. No surprise there. She's seen him fight. And the important thing is to just fight out her frustrations.

Stephen Culligan: *He grunts slightly at the punch to the gut. His thick hide absorbs the blow, but that's definitely going to leave a mark. His is for the shoulder.*

J.T. Sincaid: *he doesn't pay any attention to the sparring, he's kind of put off by it that much is plainly written on his face but he's not going to say anything, they are tribemates afterall*

Tabitha Kavelin: Mmmmm. *Closes her eyes, imagining being incredibly wealthy* Nope. Wish I did, though. I live in the Bronx. *A shrug of her shoulder* You know, typical cramped apartment.

Stephen Culligan: d10: dex+brawl: 3,2,5,7,9,7,6,

Erin Madigan: She's not about to dodge him and takes the hit.

Stephen Culligan: d10: dam: 7,8,10,7,3,7,

Erin Madigan: d10: soak: 3,3,10,1,

J.T. Sincaid: I live in the Village....although I have a feeling my apartment will be a little less cramped when I finally return to it. *he laughs a bit ruefully*

Tabitha Kavelin: Well, that's, uhm, no good. *Not exactly good at hiding the fact that she wouldn't want Livvy as a roomate*

Erin Madigan: And he gets a damn good hit on her, knocking some air from her and knocking her flying on her ass backwards onto the ground. Definitely looking to be a bit hurt as she goes to rub her shoulder.

J.T. Sincaid: It's neither here nor there, at least I get to sleep in my own bed again, the couch isn't for sleeping.

Erin Madigan: She does look a bit stunned from it.

Stephen Culligan: *He draws back at that. Careful now. He watches curiously, concern in those blue-green eyes.* Oi'll hold back, iffen ye wish i', lass.

Tabitha Kavelin: Oh, no shit. *She laughs a bit* Done that a gew times. It's bad for your back.

Erin Madigan: She shakes her head some as the little birdies stop circling her head. "Nah....let me try it again." She gets to her feet slowly though and moving her shoulder slightly, with a wince.

J.T. Sincaid: My back is alright, it's just the legs...I almost kicked off the armrest trying to stretch out a few nights ago.

Stephen Culligan: *He nods, and remains on the balls of his feet. No dodging. No quarter.*

Francesco Giardini: He makes his way into the Sept, smoking a cigarette. The man is dressed warmly, with a leather jacker and scarf over the grey suit and red tie, and scans the Sept area as he moves into it.

Lean and hungry. Poised and dangerous. That’s the words that come to mind when looking upon him. He cuts a striking figure, standing just under six feet and weighing around 160 to 170 pounds. He has a full face, just a hint of tan to otherwise fair skin, frame by shortly cropped, brown hair, a professional cut. Brown eyes carry a look of cocky intelligence to them…this isn’t some mook off the street, this man was born into greatness, and he knows it. He’s dressed in a Italian wool suit, charcoal grey, with vest and a silk tie. Black cap shoes complete the ensemble. He’s got an attitude to him…a look that’s not quite arrogance, not quite simple confidence, but somewhere in between. The world is his…it just needs to realize it.

J.T. Sincaid: (*resists urge to lemming!*)

Tabitha Kavelin: That's why you prop your feet up. That and so they're all cold and tingly in the morning. *A helpful smile*

[must.. sleeeeep]

J.T. Sincaid: (G'night!)

Erin Madigan: She comes at him again, looking like a bull going for the red cloth that is Stephen's mid section once more.

Erin Madigan: d10: dex + brawl: 5,7,5,9,

Erin Madigan: ((Night Tab-p. Sleep well))

Erin Madigan: d10: dam: 9,4,3,8,4,

Francesco Giardini: ((Is it the smell? I swear, Frankie's bathed... *S* Night, Tab-P.))

Stephen Culligan: d10: Soak: 5,4,3,4,

Stephen Culligan: *He grunts, as the punch gets past him, winding him for a moment.*

Francesco Giardini: He raises an eyebrow as he watches Erin and Stephen going at it. A momentary pause, cigarette drag taken, then exhaled through his nose, as he watches them.

J.T. Sincaid: (didn't mean to ignore ya Francesco I'm just not paying any attention, my apologies)

Stephen Culligan: *He swings a punch at her side.*

Erin Madigan: She stands back up. "Gah...you're strong," she laughs. "Okay.....let's see if you can make me fly through the air with the greatest of ease again," she grins playfully.

Stephen Culligan: d10: dex+brawl: 1,5,2,9,7,9,

Stephen Culligan: ((*switches posts*))

Erin Madigan: She doesn't dodge him probably like she should. (could put that first post before Stephen's please?)

Stephen Culligan: d10: dam: 9,4,5,3,

J.T. Sincaid: *he just sits quietly now he knows there are two people brawling but he's purposefully not watching. He nods to the newcomer from his seated spot on the cold ground*

Erin Madigan: d10: : 3,1,6,3,

Francesco Giardini: ((S'all good, J.T. :) ))

Stephen Culligan: *He feels tired, perhaps a bit sloppy with the punch. Not from the compliment, from the bruises to his gut, and the slight difficulty it's causing in breathing.*

Stephen Culligan: Yer... nae so bad... yersailf.

Erin Madigan: She feels his punch, but it's nothing like that first one to her shoulder, which she rubs at again. Oh, this will hurt in the morning at work.

Erin Madigan: "Thanks," she smiles. "I feel so much better now."

Stephen Culligan: *He nods, and grins.* Oi knew... it'd work. *He sticks out a hand.* Nae... formally... innerduced.* Stephen... Cooligan. Cliat', Knows Nae Bounds, Fianna Galliard.

Francesco Giardini: A glance over to J.T., and he looks the kid over a moment before nodding, then looks back to the fight.

Francesco Giardini: And the fight's over. A little chuckle, before the brow goes up at hearing Stephen introduce himself. Faint recognition, perhaps.

J.T. Sincaid: *he rolls his neck and then stands slowly stretching as he rises to his full height*

Erin Madigan: She offers him her hand, shaking firmly. (He got her left shoulder I'm assuming if he's right handed?) "I'm Erin Madigan, Fianna kin, blacksmith and ferrier. Nice to meet you finally. I still owe you some pizza and booze. You and Caroline."

J.T. Sincaid: *he looks over towards the two Fianna now although his eyes linger almost entirely on Erin.* Erin..*he says quietly* Can..we take a walk perhaps?

Stephen Culligan: *His eyes soften a bit, and he nods.* Aye. Carrie. Oi've... nae seen her in two years. Nor me soon.

Stephen Culligan: *He looks back to J.T., perhaps curiously. And back to Erin. He shrugs, and stands a bit straighter. He rolls his shoulders.*

Erin Madigan: "She's pretty...." then a glance to JT. "Mind if I give you my number and we talk soon again?"

Stephen Culligan: She was me mate faer soom toime, *he mutters, frustrated.* Boot t'at seems almos' anudder loife. Boot she's loovely, aye, wit' a tempair tae boot.

J.T. Sincaid: *he just falls quiet while Erin continues to speak with her tribemate, he shouldn't have interfered like that but it's too late now*

Erin Madigan: (Said to Stephen of course.)

Francesco Giardini: He raises stubs out his cigarette on his boot, carrying it to the trash can and dumping it inside. Tends to piss folks off when you litter in the Sept.

Erin Madigan: She looks a little sad for him, and looking for her jacket, she puts it back on, wincing as she puts her one shoulder through. Pulling out a piece of paper and pen she writes her number down. "I hope you get back together soon." Handing him the paper.

Stephen Culligan: *He smirks.* Nae, go talk wit' t'e lad. 'e's obvioosly annoyed wit' me. Even t'ough Oi did t'e roight t'ing.

Stephen Culligan: *He takes the number.* T'anks. Oi believes t'er's a phone at Bliss' house an' at Brianna's.

Erin Madigan: "Welcome. And thank you for helping me get my frustrations out...." she smiles to Stephen warmly. "Good night." She walks over to JT. "Sure...."

J.T. Sincaid: *he takes a deep breath and shakes his head at Erin apologetically once again. * I'm sorry for butting in like that *that's clearly not what he's actually sorry about*

Erin Madigan: "It's fine...I know you wanted to talk. I had to get that out....just who I am....Ummmmm....where did you want to walk to?"

J.T. Sincaid: Anywhere...into the river perhaps? *he says with a quiet laugh* I don't know...around the park I guess

Francesco Giardini: He heads back over, toward Stephen, giving him an upward tilt of the chin in greeting. "Hey...how you doin'?"

Stephen Culligan: *He takes another look around, a bit sore, and he'll have some nice bruises around the stomach. Frank gets a grin and a wave. does he know him? Probably not. But it's always nice to say hello to people.*

Stephen Culligan: Nae too bad, *he says seriously, his smile so broad it nearly shuts his eyes.*

Erin Madigan: "Might help my shoulder right now. Gonna have a beaut of a bruise," she seems pretty proud about that too.

Francesco Giardini: "Good to hear." He extends his hand, a pleasant-enough smile on his face. "Francesco Giardini. Glass Walker kin."

J.T. Sincaid: I didn't watch. *he says quietly as he leads her back into the bramble* (park room?)

Erin Madigan: (Sure)

Stephen Culligan: *He takes the man's forearm with his hand, and clearly expects the same, meeting eyes. A show of strength.* Stephen Cooligan. Fianna Galliard.

Francesco Giardini: He greets the Stephen as the Garou wishes, and doesn't look away from his gaze, instead meeting it evenly. No meek kin, this one. "Yeah, so I heard. We got a mutual acquaintance, or so I understand it."

Stephen Culligan: *He cants his head, and releases his arm when needs be.* Do we?

Francesco Giardini: "Brigid O'Sullivan. She works for me in the front office of my business."

Stephen Culligan: Ah! T'e lass wit' t'e liddle 'uns. Quote cute t'ey are, an a f... *He pauses, and looks up.* she's nae wit' ye, is she?

Francesco Giardini: He chuckles, fully understanding. "Naah. Feel free to swear away. She's got my boys workin' for me keepin' on the proper language, too, so I know what yer worried about."

Stephen Culligan: *He grins brightly.* T'ank t'e Goddess. Becoos Oi swears quite a bit, Oi do.

Francesco Giardini: "Yeah, me too. I've had to cut down my threat on the boys a hell of a lot since she started workin' there." He grins a bit. "She's a good kid, though. And her kids are cute, yeah."

Stephen Culligan: Aye, she's a good lass. Strong Fianna lass. *He pauses.* What aboot 'er?

Francesco Giardini: He shrugs a little. "Nothin'. Just...point of conversation's, all. Mutual friend, y'know." A quick glance around the place, then back to him. "So, what d'you do?"

Stephen Culligan: Oi sing. Oi sleep. Oi et. Oi drink. Oi foight. An' Oi kill t'e Wyrum, *he says, as if questioning if there should be more.*

Francesco Giardini: He nods a little...hardly the first time he's heard a response like that. "Got ya. Well, sounds like a busy schedule to me, eh?" A little grin.

Stephen Culligan: Well, aye, wit' t'e amount o'etin' Oi do, *he says seriously.* Speakin' o'which, Oi t'inks t'e lass Catie *and no... her name is not JUST Catie, it's 't'e lass Catie'* 'as been preparin faer me, soom sor o'meal, so Oi shoul' ge' o'er t'er. Afaer Oi starves.

Francesco Giardini: "All right." He nods a little bit. "I guess I'll see you around, then. Nice to meet ya, place a face to the name."

Stephen Culligan: *He beams.* same tae ye. Allus good tae meet new people.

Francesco Giardini: "Yeah...meetin' new people's good. Have a good one, Stephen."

Stephen Culligan: Ye too, *he says with a nod, and walks on off to empty Bliss' fridge.*

Francesco Giardini: And he heads off his own way.