"What do you consider peculiar about me? My dress? My speech? My style?"

Elson Commercial District
In the intersection of Fourteenth and Elson, the center of this three-block area of Elson Street, an elementary school's playground sits in the one corner not occupied by small businesses. Fenced in by chain-link fencing with the top tilted in to discourage the schoolchildren climbing out, the playground seems fairly well-cared-for. Down towards Fifteenth, the 19th Police Precinct is located, amidst other small businesses - clothes stores, a small electronics store, and a deli and convenience store frequented by the policemen. Their nearby presence seems to make this area a little less dangerous than others, for there seems little evidence of criminal activity here. Even down towards Thirteenth, with its own small businesses and grocery store, is cleaner and more at ease than some of the surrounding areas only a few blocks south.

Cedric saunters along the sidewalk, seemingly as nonchalant as it's possible to be, but even given his slightly dandyish air people still get out of his way. Or maybe it's the shorter, more prickly-looking woman with him they're avoiding; Emma. "So," he invites Emma, "you want to beat the bounds, as it were? Show me where your turf extends to?"

Emma gives a general nod to the other, "Yeah we can do that. Starts up on this road, and goes down to thirteenth. Some of it isn't so bad, some of it is horrible. We don't stop every thug, so if you're used to being a real Robin Hood, .. don't be." Hands fall into her pockets as she takes in a deep breath and starts the walk. "So tell me something interesting about yourself."

Cedric turns his head to Emma, seeming amused. "Interesting about myself? Um. I'm an okay tennis player, and a demon spin bowler, but I can't play soccer for toffee?" He looks back at the street ahead. "Now, let me get my bearings. US street grids always throw me. Little numbers go north? So Thirteenth is... that way?" He points.

Emma looks to the sign. "You could just follow the signs. And then learn the landmarks. Donut shop, creepy bookstore, antique dive. Spin bowler? Is that some British thing?"

Cedric looks hurt at Emma, though he may be faking it. "You colonials," he sighs. "So ignorant of cricket. Cricket is like life, you know. If you keep a good straight bat and your eye on the ball, it'll take you a long way. It's also like life in that you can cheat, and if you get away with cheating, it'll sometimes take you further." He rubs one eyebrow. "Donut shop. The one with an alley at the side and trashcans behind? Down Bridge Street, near the cycle place?"

Emma grins a little half smirk at the Fang. "See, here, bowling is a sixteen pound ball thrown down a wooden alley in attempt to knock down as many pins, as hard and fast as you can. So - yeah, subtle difference I guess. And yeah, the donut shop with the alley." She laughs a little and shakes her head, growing quiet for a short time. "Did you know Clemency well, or were you just acquaintances?"

Cedric laughs aloud. "Can you put a spin on a ball that weighs that much?" he asks. "You'll have to take me US-bowling sometime and find out, I guess." The smile fades. "Not trying to tell you your job," he says more quietly, "but perhaps the side of your turf near the donut store could stand a bit more patrollin'. Clemency? Never met her. I stayed at the sept she came from, few months back. Met an old packmate of hers. And her daughter too. Cute little kid, just learning to walk." Sigh, from Cedric. "Hate it when a kid that young loses a parent through being garou."

Emma looks to the Fang with a critical eye. "Why would you say that area needs more patrolling?" It seems the topic of Clemency is left unfinished at this point as well. The Get turns the corner and starts down one of the alleyways, nodding to a dumpster as she strolls past, "Hey Charlie. Keep an eye out on those blue whales for me eh?" Though no one can be seen, a gravelly old voice calls out a shakey 'You got it Tinkerbell.'

Cedric waits till Charlie is left in their wake before responding. "Because a few days back, I was at that store, buying donuts if you please... and found there, lurking in the alley behind, an honest to goodness Silver Fang fellow called Mathias, looking like he'd been living there for weeks if not months."

Emma looks to the other, "Mathias. I think I've heard of him - he comes and goes. Didn't know he was down around there- though I haven't been out much since-" she clears her throat, "I'll have to have a word with him, make sure he knows what turf he's wandering on."

"Not any more, he's not," Cedric frowns. "I took him away and cleaned him up and spoke to Blackriver and hopefully he looks more like his own tribe and less like a Bone Gnawer now. Not that Bone Gnawers are dishonorable or anything -- it's one of them I have to thank for pointing me at my new house -- but, well, y'know, what?"

Emma squints as she tries to follow the rapid conversation flow and then shakes her head, "No, what?" The Get looks much like a large cartoon bulldog, confused by the more upbeat dog and its antics.

Cedric tries again. "Silver Fangs shouldn't go round looking like they've lived out of dumpsters for a month. Mathias looked that way. I know some of us can be a bit... highly strung... but he was well over the edge, poor fellow. I hope I've dragged him back. I'm gonna be watching him closely. We emissaries of Falcon must look after each other. And I don't want him to get on the nerves of any more people than he already has, too."

Emma gives a nod. "You can't save everyone Cedric. But, I know how it goes. I'll let you know if any toes are stepped on in my direction. Tell me though, since you're on the topic of stereotypes- your take on the Get?"

"Splendid fellows, most of them," Cedric fires back with barely a pause. "Except the ladies, of course," he then qualifies with a disarming smile, "and a lot of them're splendid fellows too. Jestin' apart, you men are second to none in a scrap. And over here, you seem to have a smidgin more tact and common sense than some of your cousins back in Europe."

Emma gives a faint nod. "Alright. Fair enough. Lets turn it around on you. The Fangs. And more specifically, you. What makes you tick Cedric. There's something odd about you, and I can't put my finger on it."

Cedric pauses on the corner of a crosswalk, making a roadblock for most other pedestrians who are forced to either confront their irrational fear of him and Emma and walk closer than seems safe, or else step into the gutter to go round them. "Somethin' odd? My dear Emma, there isn't a garou born you couldn't say that of. Can you be a little more specific? What do you consider peculiar about me? My dress? My speech? My style?"

Emma takes in a shallow breath, shaking her head. "All of that and more. I don't know. Maybe the Fangs I've known have been all really whacked out already or something." She moves to lean against the stoplight pole, looking upward. "How old are you anyway?"

"Twenty-four," responds Cedric, "and so old enough to know better. Also, old enough, unlike many garou of my tribe and others, to have learnt how to present some kind of face to the outside world. Mebbe one day you'll get to see behind my mask, Emma. Mebbe. But I know from bitter experience it's best to not drop that mask too often."

"I need a better mask. A bigger one. Scarier." Emma looks over and grins at the other then. "Fair enough answer though Cedric. You come off a lot more polished than Clemency did, though she had the full moon under her skin and then some. Blackriver and I - we don't see eye to eye very well. Or rather, nothing good comes of it when we try to."

"She's a lupe," Cedric says. "I never could get the hang of them. Few can. And I 'spect she'd say the same of us. Masks come with time," he goes on. "Most people can't just sit down and choose to make one from scratch. How old are you, Emma? Teens, still?"

Emma gives a faint nod, unbruised by the guess. "I'll be nine.." she pauses as the realization hits her, "Damn, nineteen this year. Hadn't realized how much time went by." She kicks off from the pole and starts walking again. "I remember when all this started, heh. You know Olga? She was my bud when I was just a pup around here. Her and a gay fian. How's that for assbackwards?" There's a smile on her face now as she turns to glance at the other.

Cedric smiles back. "Olga I know only by name and reputation, but I'm sure you can introduce me sometime. She sounds someone special." He follows Emma across the crosswalk. "Yeah, this is what I mean about your people here having the edge on your German cousins. They're so insular. Look down at us, never mind Bone Gnawers."

Emma grins, "Oh, don't you worry Cedric. Signe came back about that time and lugged me away from such a ghastly upbringing. Between her, Gunnar and Brom, my head got a full dose of some of the more traditional 'tudes. It's not yet been decided whether my stubborness has blocked me from a curse, or a blessing yet." Two darkly clad figures move a block down and Emma zones in on them, "Hey, we need to eye those two."

Cedric's eyes narrow. "Let's go play King Wenceslaus at them," he agrees. "Followin' their footsteps." Conversation is discarded as the two garou start to trail the dark-clothed pair.