Urban Renewal: At the Coffe Bar..,

Urban Renewal: At the Coffe Bar..,

She takes him several blocks away, to a small coffe house she knows of nearby. Its a quaint little place, peaceful, with eceletic music softly playing over the in-house speakers. The funiture is a mix-matched collection, chair heights matching table heights seems to be the only simialrity between them all.

Tara nods to the waitress as she approaches them both. Soon they are seated in a small alcove just off to the left of the door as the waitress leaves them with the menus. Many of the drinks are odd coffe combinations, some are horribly expensive, where others are quite affordable. Tarra points out that the "food" is more like "snacks" at regular meal type prices.

"Not something I suggest, but the sandwiches are good and decently priced."

She shrugs, followed with a soft smile, "Its the quiet and the solitude I come here for, not the food."

Eric leans back in his seat, absorbing the ambiance. Everything about him seems calm, content. He takes Tarra's hands in his, and just sits there, staring into her eyes. She smiles, her thoughts roving quickly through the back of her mind. Thoughts of him, his sweetness and gentle nature, meander to the fore. With a mild blush she looks down at their hands. Tarra studies them, running her thumb across his knuckles in a light carress. She feels warm, safe, and her thoughts still themselves to nothingness.

Eventually, Eric speaks, hating to break the moment but mindful of the task at hand.

"We got kind of side-tracked last night from what i came over to talk about. What do you see, from your perspective, as being important for all of us to get involved in. Look at the city around you...what needs our attention?"

She takes a deep breath, and considers his questions. After a moments pause, she looks up.

"The city is a big place. Not just in size, but in massive population.., so the problems in an around here double and triple..., " she begins, thinking out loud.

"I know most of my old college associates talked of working in the city because of the huge crime rate. There are more 'accidents' in an hour in most big cites then there are almost any other places. Job security, some said." She makes a sour face.

She nods, more to herself.., continuing, "The thugs.., gives the taxi companies more money, I'm sure, as most folks don't want to go out after dark, because of the thugs..., "

"But then.., there is alot of pollitical corrutpion too. You can see it in the papers, in the news.., and I hear it sometimes from some of the customers at the resturant. It makes it hard to get things to work at all..., especially at the Grass Roots level..,"

She shakes her head.., "There is just.., so much..."

Eric leans in close, kissing her cheek softly.

"I know how impossible it all seems, but we will make a difference. We have to believe that, or we've already lost. You should probably discuss this with Lauren, too. But we need to focus, find a problem and then work to fix it. Otherwise, we are but lost."

She nods, considering his words.., "Lost or the problems find us..., "

She sighs, "I do want to help. But.., the 'how' of that was lost to me after I left home."

She reaches out and lightly touches the side of his face with her fingers.

"I'm here.., now. I'm not even sure what I can accomplish.., at this point. But I do want to help."


"How comes after we figure out what. You are an intelligent and caring person, we will think of something. You can do things we can't...people aren't instinctively afraid of you. You can join organizations, and then we can just help those organizations do what they are trying to do anyway, in our way. There are a lot of people, like you said, which means there are a lot of people trying to do the right thing. With some creative planning, we can help them. But it will require you to get involved."

She watches him, listening raptly. Nodding her undersatnding she speaks.

"I'll do what ever is needed, as long as it is withint my abilities, Eric. It the very least I could do for the Sept., for you " She smiles.

She looks to the table, deep in thought. After a short pasue she looks up. She studies his face for a moment with a look of serious contemplation.

"Back home, my mother and I would work on those most greviously wounded. Mother had me wrapping bandages at a very early age. The shock to how much damage a body can take wore off after a while. That's what I grew up with, that's what I know."

She pauses thoughtfuly, "I cannot comprehend not being invovled, and I am sure Lauren would feel the same way. I may not know her well, but from what I do know.., "

She smiles, "she's a hard worker and very dedicated."

"As to what's most important.., that would depend on who you ask and what they are invovled in.., of course. But as you said, we need to take this in a more organized manner.., what's the biggest threat?"

She seems to be considering her own question.

"That is the million dollar question." Eric answers.

She looks up at him, curiously.., "What ever did happen to the original Sept? I've only heard snippets, and none of it makes sense."

"We're not entirely sure, but this is my best guess. Federal Agents, working for the Weaver, apprehended people one at a time. That would explain why there was no Wyrm prescence detected, and why Jase sought out the Wyrm to undo what was done to him. There was apparently a contact poison used that slowly ate away their ability to shift, took their rage and their connection to Gaia. I don't know if this was given before or after they were taken. That's the most comprehensive answer I've heard so far. It doesn't answer why in the slightest, though."


Tarra looks very concerned.

"Why? I can think of a number of reasons, most of which come from History class. And I didn't like history class, it was far too boring compared to some of the tales from home."


She looks at him very directly, "Tatics.., raw, under-handed, tactics."

She leans in slightly, her hands tighten in his. Tarra's face a mask of shock, "You just said it, 'one at a time'. What good is a Garou.., if they cannot tap into the Blessings of the Mother?"

"-We-.., " she points to herself with her thumbs, " don't get invovled as much in the things -you-, " she motions to Eric, "deal directly with.., cause we'd get squashed flatter the bugs under a fly swatter. Hells, most of humanity would be squished."

She shivers involentairly, still looking at him.., "I have to wonder if they didn't piss someone off.., or step on the wrong toes.., or.., or.., get invovled in something they didn't hope to understand.., "

"We don’t know at this point," Eric answers her. "Even Johnny can’t think of what they were doing that would have upset the Weaver-minions so. Unless it was an experiment... I don’t know how much they know about us at all."

"Apparently they know enough...," she scowls. Looking up and around she sees the waitress hovering by the counter on the other side of the room, watching them. Seeing Tarra look up, the girl comes over quickly.

"Sorry," she says with a smile, "I saw you two talking and didn't want to intterupt. It looked important, and I'm not is a big rush this morning. What can I get for you?"

Tarra chuckles, " Sorry about that, and its no problem. I appreciate your patience. Can I get an Orange Creamsicle Steamer, I haven't had one of those in a while."

The waitress writes it down, nodding, "Like I said, its a bit slow this morning. No worries. You two are like my only customers today."

Turning to Eric, she flashes him her most professional smile, "What can I get for you, sir?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Chai Tea Latte please?" Eric shakes his head slightly as he sees the waitress's obvious discomfort despite her professional demeanor.


The girl nods, scrawls his order, and hurries off, "It'll be ready shortly."

Tarra watches her walk off to place the order. Once she is far enough off, Tarra turns her attention back to Eric. Her forehead is creased with concern.

"The only thing I can think of, is that there was either a leak to the outside.., or someone outside knows more then they should..," she sighs, closing her eyes, " and that is a very disturbing thought, indeed."

After a short moment, she looks up quickly, "If they know of the Garou.., they must only know a bit about them physically..., otherwise the Caern would not be there now... Unless its some sort of horror-movie-style trap, or something."

Eric stares off at nothing, thinking, before speaking slowly.

"The minions of the Weaver are often ignorant of their master. They use Science and Technology, but do not understand Spirituality. Their may have been a leak, or a plant. A kinfolk seeking revenge for poor treatment or a minion of the Wyrm wishing to see the sept fall.., both equally likely with no real lead."

He sighs heavily.

"I don't think there is a trap...it would have been sprung by now. We should have...sensed something if there was one."

"Then," she watches him, her brain running a million miles a minute, "Where are the other kinfolk? When -I- got here, there were a small handful that were keeping the Caern and its territory safe.., but that all I knew."

"Leslie," Tarra closes her eyes with a sigh,"I was.., sent.., to Leslie.., to find her. We talked a bit before she brought me to the Sept itself... Besides the others I got to meet, I noticed a severe lack of 'support'."

She looks up at him, her eyes a bit distant as she thinks.

"Right now the basic ratio.., its wrong."

Eric gets a very distant look at the mention of Leslie, a touch of turmoil slipping through his demeanor.

"The ratio is wrong, there is no doubt about it. But when we were called, we left our friends and families behind. I am actually considering getting my mother to move down here.., she's very good at the networking. Maybe Tarl can get some kin-fetch spirits... We need to do something.., to get this caern back into balance. Especially since it is an urban caern.., so surrounded by humanity."

Tarra moves one of her hands from his hand to his face, her fingers lightly touching his jawline. There is a look of compassion, and empathy in her eyes and features. After a long look, she shakes her head.

She is about to speak when the waitress returns with the drinks. Setting them down, the girl gives them both a nod and hurries off. Once she is out of ear shot, Tarra continues.

"But.., that's just it." Tarra speaks softly, with a look over her shoulder, "Its not a matter of who -we- left behind. Its the fact that there -should- be more kin around."

Her look becomes very concerned as she continues, "Yes, we may be able to find more amoung the population.., but they would likely be like Shelly. She doesn't have a clue. I've done what I can, and plan to do more to bring her up to speed, personally."

Tarra shakes her head again, looking rather discontent, "Its a matter of genetics and population levels. By rational logic.., -because- we are in the city.., there should be -more- here, in the area. What ever, who ever took out the Sept.., must have also gone after the kin... Unless they have all just dissappeared with a poof."

"It makes -no- sense. Unless who ever it is.., -does- know more then we think they might."

"Or they made a choice, like the Croatan so long ago... Do you know that story?" Eric asks.

Tarra smiles softly, "Not the whole detail of it.., but it is something that is heartily sung amoung my old Sept."


"But from my experiences here in the last few months, I doubt highly that most city-folk would be that dedicated. Most people are very insular, and worried about themselves rather then others, in general." She smirks.

"It is unlikely, but not impossible. Perhaps our friendly gate-keeper can shed some light on to how many there were?" Eric queries thoughtfully.

"That's not such a bad idea," she ponders this.

"Plus, I have to drop off my weekly 5-er," Tarra smiles up at Eric, "I'm betting on the 49'ers to win their next game."

Eric looks at her with a bit of a smirk. "Always bet on the Eagles."

Tarra looks at him sideways with a grin, her head tilted slightly. Chuckling she leans forward and pulls out of her back pocket, a list of some sort. Unfolding it she takes a look, checking out the columns.

"hmmn," she says.

"The Eagles have a Home game against Carolina this Sunday.., with an Away game against Cleveland next Sunday," she looks up at him under her eyebrows with a smile.

"We could always see about getting tickets for the home games..," she grins, "and maybe give the stubs to Bob."

"But," she says with a wink, "I've always been a 49'ers fan."

"And here I thought you'd be a Minnesota fan. I doubt we can get tickets for this week now, but maybe something later in the season..."

Tarra smirks, "-Some- folks _would_ be fans just because of the imagry."

"I like the colors," she says grinning, "reminds me of Fall. Plus, they are a pretty good team, normally."

Looking him over, she reaches for her Steamer. She takes a light sip at it to test its temperature.

"Never underestimate the importance of imagery. Given where my pack was formed and what our totem is, I think we're all required to root for Donovan. Besides, I am much more of a spring person, I think. So the green does work."

Tarra chuckles into her Steamer, "Good reasons. Maybe you could keep the ticket stubs then, and we can give the reciepts to Bob, instead."

After taking another small sip, she sets her drink down.

"Green is all and good, I agree," she says as she looks off into nothing, "but.., I miss the colors in the Fall. Everything about the city is grey, grey, and more grey with some brown and green to break things up."

She closes her eyes, her smile softens as she remembers, "The hillsides look like they are on fire. The reds and yellows brillant in the morning light, just after the mists rise and clear. Even on the rainy days, dank and dreary, the colors are vibrant. One last, powerful statement of life, before Winter sends them to slumber."

"Picnic out at Valley Forge?" Eric suggests.

Tarra opens her eyes, still smiling, "Oh.., that would be awesome!"

"It will probably have to be a Sept thing..., but we'll find time to steal a few moments..." Eric smiles.

Tarra seems excited by the idea of the picnic, as she picks up her cup. She smiles at him over it, sipping the still very warm liquid. The smile is soft, and very happy. She glances down into her cup, suddenly very shy.

Eric takes a large swallow of his Chai and looks at her curiously. "Nervous that the others will know?"

"Its..," she starts, then stops at a loss for words. Her ear tips color over slightly.

"I..," she tries again, "I just.., er.., oh. hmmph."

Then with a light chuckle, "I guess I'm more worried about Lauren teasing me.., maybe. I don't know. So much has happened.., so quickly.., I.., oh."

She sighs into her cup, as if trying to hide behind it. Her ears are a bit more red now. The more she thinks, the more it spreads. He puts his Chai down and reaches out to run his fingers through the hair on the back of her head. She startles slightly, drawn out of her thoughts by his soft touch.

"It has been quick, true. But it has been right." He pulls her to him and kisses her gently.

Tarra's nervousness melts under the kiss, her body relaxing. Her eyes close. Sighing softly she presses her forehead to his. She sits there a moment just absorbing his presence before her eyes flutter open. Caught in his gaze, lost in his eyes, she feels her heart flutter.

"I.., " she breathes as she kisses him again.

Eric glances over at the clock and sighs.

"I've got to get to work, people are relying on me.."

He kisses her again, then drains the contents of his cup. She simply nods, looking into her own cup. A multitude of thoughts and mixed feelings run around the inside of her head. Looking up she offers his a small smile.

"Have a good day.., if you need anything just give me a call," she offers quietly, taking another sip from her own cup.

"Count on it." Eric smiles, "And I expect whatever application forms and financial aid forms and everything else we need to get you back in school, ASAP."

She looks up at him, mildly shocked. Nodding her head over her cup she says, " Of course. I'll have to find out which local schools have the curiculae I need to finish my degree."

Her smile broadens, "Thank you, Eric."

"It is my pleasure." He takes her hand, bows low as he kisses it, then spins and heads out the door. A 10 dollar bill is sitting on the table as he leaves.

She sits there watching him leave, shaking her head to herself bemused. She takes a finger and runs it over the back of her hand where he kissed it. A smile jumps to her lips and quickly she drowns the giggles, that begin to buble up, into her cup.