Donuts and Rage

[hazlogs]

It is currently 16:52 Pacific Time on Wed Jan 20 2016.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 49 degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 30.11 and falling, and the relative humidity is 74 percent. The dewpoint is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.) For more detail, see: http://www.wunderground.com/cgi-bin/findweather/getForecast?query=98501

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous (Galliard) Moon phase (75% full).

The Hub: Main Floor

The main floor of 'the Hub' is a spacious, almost sprawling room, with a two-story high ceiling and a large loft that looks out over the room itself, accessed via a winding metal staircase set at the opposite end from the heavy security door. One side of the floor is completely open, with a bank of windows facing north and offering a brilliant view of the city, especially at night. The other side contains a series of doors and doorways that lead into other rooms, large and small. One is clearly a kitchen (a very nice large kitchen with its own island and eating area), one is a bathroom, and one a repurposed conference room with a smaller central table than likely existed before, and comfortable rolling chairs that have clearly been reclaimed from various goodwill sources. Other rooms serve as storage, with one standing out as a well maintained server room, from which the local Walker server, various databases, and hardware responsible for the block's free wifi can be accessed.

The open floor itself sports several areas clearly designated for various purposes, though none have been walled off from the rest in any real fashion. One contains a comfortable, beat-up couch and armchairs arranged in a semi-circle around a large flatscreen TV and coffee table, another is a bank of multiple computers, each with their own desk and office chair, while a third is a modest exercise area mostly consisting of an open space of floor covered in a cushioned mat and several free weights. A number of monitors have been mounted on the wall next to the security door; the largest displays the area immediately on the other side of the door, with another showing the interior of the private elevator. The third and largest is split into sections, with one section dedicated to the sub-basement, another to the roof, and the others switching routinely between various parts of the interior and exterior of Maxwell Tower.

The sun is setting over the city, the view out the windows full of reds and oranges darkening to blue-black, pinpricks of light breaking up the growing gloom. Salem, looking rather broody and tired, sits tucked into one corner of the couch with a light laptop on his knees, typing.

The elevator doors swing open, then closed. Odd. The Ragabash comes into view and out of her blurred gift with a frustrated look upon her face. She is wearing a Wonderbolts hoodie with a pair of ripped jeans and she is carrying three boxes of donuts. As she spies Salem, she says, "Hey!"

Salem glances up, then back down at his screen. "/Never/ send me texts like that again," the kid says coldly. "You're a goddamned Fostern, for fuck's sake."

"Oh, I'm /sorry/. Next time when I'm fucking face to face with mister DJ Blue the Spiral who is telling me he is going to hand deliver that fucking mage in the top of the tower, and I'm trying to get ahold of ANYONE because... I don't know, I could end up dead, next time, I'll be a lot more fucking PC about it." Briari snaps back at him. "This isn't high school, even if you look like you belong in it. Next time I fucking send you a 9-1-1, fucking answer it!"

Salem's head snaps back up, eyes widening with rage, his lips peeling back from his teeth. It takes him a moment to reply, a moment in which the philodox is very obviously stamping down on a frenzy. "...You are /Fostern/." He says slowly. "Not a cub. Not a cliath. A Garou who has earned /rank/ and who is /supposed/ to have a brain and not go into hysterics because her tribal beta isn't instantly available. Furthermore, you do /not/ take that tone with me, and you do /not/ order me around. Because this is /not/ high school, and I am your goddamned /superior/."

Briari puts the donuts down, then throws her hands up. "The second donut box has a hard drive with the entire conversation recorded of me and DJ. I also hacked his phone and recorded a conversation between himself and someone in the tower. They are planning a coup against the Queen. There is dissent in the ranks. The third donut box has a burn phone with a google voice number forwarded to it. The DJ is going to call that number when the mage, whom he calls the Queen's magical pet, is going to leave the tower. It seems that he enjoys taking breaks now and again. He expects us to kill him when the phone rings." She puts the donut boxes down on a table. "The top box has a dozen donuts." Pinching the bridge of her nose, her trembling body gives a few sporadic twitches as she walks away from the donuts.

Salem watches with an intensity that's far too predatorial and violent to come out of a thirteen-year-old's face. "And you could have sent /all/ of that in a message over the secure network rather than screech at me like a spoiled brat." His voice is dead calm -- on the outside at least; he's gripping the laptop like it's taking all his will not to smash it into something.

"I was scared for my life because he led me right into the middle of Harbor Park, turned around and looked right at me even though I was invisible and he decided to have a conversation with me. Then he started talking about how the entire park was surrounded by invisible buddies who were all going to do terrible things to me, and I thought if I didn't get this out in the moment, then no one would ever know, or find the body, or whatever would be left of me after they got done tearing me into pieces. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm not like you. I don't just waltz into dark dungeons and find goop monsters and come out thinking about what I want for dinner." Briari says as she continues to twitch and jerk as she clamps her hands over one another to try and settle them down. "I have not slept since the RV trip. I'm freaking out."

"You rely too much on that Gift," Salem says. He carefully closes the laptop and sets it down on the coffee table. "It doesn't make you invisible, and it's not infallible. /No/ Gift is infallible." He sits back against the couch cushions, arms folded across his chest. "That being said, it's good you got the information, and if you need to take a break out at the caern, do so."

"Yeah, that is probably a good idea." Briari says as she reaches up to wipe at her face with the back of her hand. "Thank you for saving my life the other day."

Salem's mouth thins. "It's regrettable that you haven't had much experience fighting nonhumans. Did you get injured at all?"

"No. Not really. I got ahold of me once but my kevlar took most of the attack. It hurt but it's healed. Just a scratch." Briari says as she opens the top donut box and roots out a glazed. "You really should try these. They're super good. I've have twenty-two today."

"Christ," is all Salem has to say about that. He passes a hand over his face and reaches out to take a donut. "I'm serious about the caern thing. Stretch your wolf legs, breathe some fresher air. It'll be good for you."

One of the main floor doors opens (one that leads to one of the mostly empty rooms up here), and Ghost emerges looking bleary eyed, damp hair tousled, and just a little paler than usual. She's in the middle of a yawn as she steps out. "Mnm. Am I interrupting?"

"I know, and I will. I'm just still processing everything. The Queen calls herself the Queen of Rancordiant. She has two other sisters, one in New York and one in Los Angeles." Briari says as she drifts back to the original conversation.

Salem nods, his eyes going over to Ghost. "Not at all." The kid's still a little tense, to be perfectly honest. "Briari brought donuts." He waves at the small stack of boxes.

Ghost looks toward the boxes. "Thanks," she murmurs. "I'm not very hungry right now though." One hand rubs roughly at her face, then rakes fingers through her hair.

"They're super good. Eat a donut before I do.. this is number twenty-three." Briari says as she takes a bite of it. "I think I'm diabetic now also. Can we get diabetes by the way, you know ... as werewolves?" Her nose wrinkles up a bit.

"Only the Ratkin are immune to disease," Salem says, finishing his donut and licking sugar glaze off his fingers. He gives Ghost a worried glance. "There's gatorade in the kitchen. You should try to have a little something."

Ghost's expression turns to something of a pained grimace at the suggestions of food from both of them. "In a little while," she promises. "After I wake up a bit. I've missed the whole damn day, haven't I?"

"I haven't slept in seventy hours if it makes you feel better." Briari says as she heads for the kitchen to get herself a gatorade because that's a great idea. "What should we do about this mage guy? What if the phone rings?"

Salem pulls a face. "I don't suppose your spontaneous contact gave you any intel as to exactly what this reality-worker's capable of?"

Ghost turns and ambles toward the bathroom, rubbing her eyes.

"He said that when he calls us and tells us where he will be, that we need to kill him quickly and to do so without him knowing we're coming or seeing us. I would assume that would mean he would kill the fuck out of us if he did." Briari says as she wrinkles her nose. "He was pretty tight lipped about the finer details. I was not holding my breath for any real optimism, but from the call I was able to steal from his phone, he is definitely wanting to take the Queen out and that he has friends in the tower who are freaking out. I guess things aren't super happy in Hitler-Ville."

Salem wrinkles his nose. "Of course not. And this works out /very/ well for them, because either we kill the mage for them or he kills us for them. Either way, it's a win... for them." He frowns. "A chance to take the mage out is one we can't afford to turn down, though. Even if it's a trap."

Ghost shuts the bathroom door--quietly--and there's the sound of running water, followed by some muffled clattering. "...Hitler-ville?" That's very muffled too, but obviously she's still eavesdropping.

"You know, because the Queen is commanding this army of assholes who are killing people for no reason and causing all this chaos? So.. look... that's not important." Briari says with a roll of her eyes upwards. "I do want to know who he was talking to though in the tower. Since I have her voice, I was thinking maybe we can have Peter listen to it. See if he recognizes it."

Salem's mouth thins out. "Peter the Shadow Lord kinfolk? Why would he recognize it?"

There's a heavy sigh from the bathroom. "I /knoooow/ who Hitler is." The toilet flushes, and then of all things there's the sound of some sort of heavy tape.

Briari blinks her eyes. "You don't know that he is working in the tower as an intern and that he has a ton of information?" She rubs at her face. "He's been sneaking around, taking pictures of everything. Has access to the entire tower except the top two floors. Even got some pictures of Amelia who is this spiral dancer head of security. I was wondering if by chance Blue was talking to her."

Salem scowls. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not omniscient and cannot know things that people have not told me." He sounds a mite testy.

More tape, some more rummaging around, and Ghost emerges from the bathroom. She looks a little more awake, but no less under the weather. Salem gets a considering glance, but the other young woman seems unlikely to interrupt right now.

"Oh, well -- if you were, that'd be pretty freaking cool." Briari says as she rubs at her nose. She eyes the donut box again, then shoves her hands into her pockets to resist taking another one. "So, I was thinking if Peter can listen to my recording, he can recognize the voice of the woman Blue was talking to."

Salem answers Briari while eyeballing Ghost worriedly. "I think that would be a good idea, yes."

Ghost seems to catch the eyeing on her way to the couch. She gives him a wan smile and a thumbs up. "I'm fine. Same as yesterday. Nothing's any worse."

".. Was that duct tape I heard coming from the bathroom? I heard the toilet flush, then duct tape." Briari pauses for a moment, then says, "... Uh ... Not it on fixing it."

Salem grimaces and gets up from the couch. "She's still injured from the fight in Olympia," he snaps at Briari, heading up the steps to the loft.

Ghost gives Briari a very strange look. "...Surgical tape," she says, as if that answer should be obvious. She lowers herself onto the couch and kicks both feet out in front of her. A sidelong look tracks Salem as he goes.

With a soft sigh, Briari watches Salem go, then looks back to Ghost. "So, I am heading out to the Caern." She pauses and rubs the back of her neck.

Salem heads out onto the roof without further word.

"...Okay," Ghost says. She sounds a tiny bit lost on the matter, but there's no sign of argument from her.

"So... yeah... I'll see you later." Briari says as she shrugs her shoulders upwards as she heads for the elevator. "Maybe. Take care."