Advice for Adrian

[hazlogs]

It is currently 10:17 Pacific Time on Tue Sep 17 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 56
degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from variable directions at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is
29.93 and steady, and the relative humidity is 90 percent. The dewpoint is
53 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (70% full).

Location: Outside the Yellow River Medicine Shop.


Salem walks briskly along the sidewalk, hands pushed deep into his coat
pockets and his expression tight and grim. The weather's getting colder;
soon, it'll be too chilly for the black trenchcoat.

Adrian shivers on the fire escape, since running away, he's only be clad
in his wife beater and his 501's. The young cub looks down at the figure
passing. His eyes light up a bit when he seems Salem. He calls down, not
too loud, but to where he could be heard. "Mr. Salem?" His eyes are fairly
feral to a degree. It's clear he hasn't bathed in several days. The once
handsome young man has definately seen better days.

Salem pauses at sound of his name, eyes narrowing behind dark lenses as he
turns to see who's addressing him. His gaze settles on the
miserable-looking Get cub soon enough, and a frown tugs down the corners
of his mouth. "Adrian?" Brow furrowing, he steps over toward the fire
escape, looking up.

Adrian scampers down the fire escape to the ground level. The cub's aroma
matches the rest of his pitiful state. "Yes, Sir, it's me." At the sudden
burst of energy, his stomich growls loudly. Adrian's hand instinctively
covers it, trying to silence it. "I can't belive I finally found someone I
know. I was starting to think I was being avoided." His eyes are wild,
full of emotion.

Salem's nose wrinkles slightly, but his manner's more bemused than
disgusted. "It's a big city. Easy to miss people." The frown twitches at
his lips again. "Something happen?"

Maybe Lyra's stalking Salem...nah, she just lives there. She steps out of
the clothes store, eyes on the sidewalk in deep thought as she turns
automatically towards her apartment. It's further down the street, past
the police station. A truant officer entering the station gives her a
glance, but is too lazy to follow her, and heads inside. The cub is
mumbling angrily in Mandarin- maybe that's what caught his attention.

Adrian looks down, almost ashamed, but somewhat frightened as well. "Owen
found out that I'm gay... well...." The cub catches his breath, "I kinda
fucked up and told him. I figured he had to know by now...." Adrian stops
and tries to regain his composure. He's near tears and trying not to show
it. "He got really angry. He made it clear he didn't want me around..."
Another catch of breath, "I thought it might be a test and stood up for
myself... but then.... then he looked like he was going to kill me...
right there and then..." The young man looks up at you. His eyes are
filled with pain and wet with approaching tears. "I don't want to die...
Mr. Salem... Not because I'm a fag... I've already been there..." Adrian
looks away, "I didn't ask to be a werewolf. Is there anything I can do to
change this and live a quiet life?"

There is, maybe, a flicker across the Walker's face at mention of Adrian's
sexuality; in general, though, his face is unreadable but for the little
grimace that blooms at mention of Owen, and Owen's reaction. "Get," he
mutters, sourly. He shakes his head slightly. "This isn't something to be
talking about in public," he says quietly. He glances down along the
street, then back to the cub. "I take it Lyra isn't home?"

Adrian shakes his head, "I don't think so, I've been waiting here for a
few hours now, but haven't seen her. This was the only place I could think
of to go. I've been hiding out for over a week now, scared of what he
would do if he found me."

Still mumbling a few curses and wishes, Lyra- like magic -comes into view,
arms folded as she thinks. Still frowning. Where on earth could Meiran be?
She looks up longingly at the apartment above the shop, and thus notices
the two Garou standing outside. The Gnawer blinks, then unfolds her arms
and quickens her steps a little, if just to say hi.

"Hrmh." Another glance down the block lets Salem to spot the Gnawer in
question, and he unpockets a hand in order to gesture her over. "If he
wanted to find you, he could," he then says to Adrian. "But, from what I
hear, he and his pack are off on some grand quest."

Salem's voice has a thinly-veiled note of sarcasm at the mention of
Reforged's quest. He clearly doesn't think very highly of it.

Adrian frowns a bit, "Better cast aside and forgotten then hunted and
culled, I guess." He smiles as he sees Lyra, an honest, open smile. Maybe
the first he's had in days. As she approaches he notes one last thing to
Salem, quietly, "I don't think Owen or Jamethon think too highly of me.
They would've liked my brother, he's everything they wish I would be. I
think I'm a pretty lousy Get."

Lyra's close enough to hear 'challenge' and Adrian's last sentence. She
sidles up to Adrian with her head tilted curiously and a cheerful smile on
her face, flexing her fingers in a small wave to Salem. "Hello rhya,
Adrian," she greets them, although her eyes are still on the Get cub. "Is
something the matter...?"

Lyra is too polite to openly gawk at Adrian's appearance, hey, she looked
like that just yesterday. But she's definitely worried.

"Adrian's having family troubles," Salem explains to the Gnawer cub. An
understatement. "Lyra, do you mind if we retire to your apartment? I think
Adrian here could do with getting out of the cold."

Adrian nods, maybe it's to agree with Salems assement of the situation or
maybe in agreement to get someplace warm. His stomich growls again and he
grimaces.

The halfmoon cub nods too, stepping behind Adrian and fishing her keys out
of some pocket. The gate is opened, and the doors unlocked, with the
deftness of somebody who has done it a million times before. "I haven't
seen or heard from Auntie," she mumbles rather sourly, "But I can start
making some lunch. Noodles, rice, subs- peacock, when's the last time you
ate?" She slips inside, obviously expecting the two to follow her.


Yellow River Medicine Shop- Upstairs Apartment

The apartment has several rooms, the living room, Lyra's bedroom in the
attic, Meiran's bedroom, the Laundry room/Bathroom, and the Kitchenette.
The living room is one long rectangle, and shows signs of an Asian
influence to say the least. In the back of the living room is a small,
rectangular dining table.

	To the right of the table, the wall is cut out, with a
restaurant-like counter into the kitchenette. Convienient for passing
plates of food between rooms. To the left of the door is the
laundry/bathroom, and an exit to the fire escape. To the right is a small
hallway, leading to the kitchenette, a full sized bathroom, and Meiran's
bedroom. There are retractable stairs in the ceiling of the hallway,
leading to a small attic room with a large window looking out behind the
shop.

	The vinyl, bamboo-green sofa is sitting upright, although new
off-color cushions have replaced the old. Deep scratches are gored into
the sand colored tile, but it's a clean floor, and a few postcards of
England are taped to the wall. The photos and awards have all be lovingly
set in new frames and hung up on the wall by the table again. The stairs
to the attic room have been removed, and there's a ladder leaning against
the wall in case someone should decide to go up to Lyra's bedroom. Chunks
of the plastered walls have been gouged out. The television is gone
(although the CCTV is still there, set in the wall above where the TV used
to be). There's a new dining table- it's really just a blue collapsible
card table. The bullet marks in the doorway have been there for a long
time now, as the few in the wall that are now covered up by photographs.
The kitchen has been cleaned, more or less; one of the pantry doors is
missing, and cheap plastic plates have replaced Meiran's nice china. The
fire escape door is still slightly bent in the middle, like a great hand
had punched it in. While shabbier than say a year ago, the apartment has
been repaired. (+view Laundry Room, Attic Room, Kitchenette)


By the time the other Garou have gone up the stairs and into the
apartment, Lyra's already bustling in the kitchen with the muted clink of
plastic dishes and metal pans. "Please make yourselves at home- but watch
the couch, one of the springs are broken." Funny how she'd know that.

Salem removes the sunglasses and shrugs out of the trenchcoat. The couch
gets a wary look before he takes a seat on it. Then, briskly, he says,
"First of all, Adrian, the only law we have in regards to sexuality is
that we don't do it with each other. It is, however, unfortunate that some
tribes are less tolerant than others."

Adrian looks to Lyra, "Uh.. I hunted some rabbits in the woods and when I
came to town I.... I... I found some food in a dumpster behind a
resteraunt." The cub looks away, trying to mask his wounded pride, "If you
weren't home I was gonna go Glabro and mug someone for their wallet so i
could really eat." He looks away, ashamed at admiting the truth. He looks
to salem and nods, "I don't think they want me."

Carefully Lyra sets a dish of reheated rice and noodles out on the divider
between the kitchen and living room. Another plate makes its way there,
this time with a Subway turkey sub cut in half, and she pauses to look at
Adrian with deep concern. "I'm making some egg drop soup, but it'll be a
little while...I can't find the dry noodles. And peacock you -know- you
can come here anytime, even if I'm not home. If...um...my aunt's around,
though. Er. Hm." A frustrated sigh. "Oh, Adrian, I'm sorry." The Gnawer
keeps an ear tuned to the conversation as she prepares far more food than
three normal people could possibly consume for lunch. That's going to be
an awful lot of egg drop soup. And spring rolls.

"There are other tribes," the Glass Walker says. He makes no move toward
the divider; he's probably already eaten. He purses his lips, thinks a
moment, then adds, "The thing is, until and unless Owen or, since he's
absent, James... until one of them actually chooses to release you to
another tribe you are, as a cub, stuck with them. You can, of course,
appeal to the Children of Gaia, or even the Bone Gnawers. The Gaians
especially should be sympathetic to your situation."

Adrian looks to Lyra, "Thanks, Lyra, I owe you." He grabs the sub and
devours it greedily. It doesn't take long, it put up a valiant fight but
falls down the cub's gullet. He then takes the rice and shovels it into
his mouth. The young man watches Salem, "I don't know much about the
Children of Gaia, I have to admit. The Bone Gnawers have all treated me
well enough though." He sighs a bit, "They'll hate me if I ask to be
released, but then, except for Seeker, I think they hate me anyway..." He
looks down at the plate, "I am so fucked."

Salem grunts. "If they hate you, then they hate you. There's nothing you
can do about that. Both the Children and the Gnawers have a long history
of taking in the outcasts of other tribes." He leans back against the
couch, arms folded, and watches the cub stuff himself. "They may, of
course, choose not to release you, in which case you'll not be able to
change tribes until you've passed your Rite and are an adult."

Adrian frowns and nods, "And since they decide when my Rite is, they can
keep me under their thumb and make my life a living hell anyway... just
great..."

Salem tilts his head slightly. "I would still speak to Andrea, if I were
you. Or to Kaz or one of the other ranked Gnawers. Your situation is
hardly a unique one. Many cubs find themselves unsuited to their tribe,
but," and here he unfolds his arms and sits up, "many more do find their
niche. You're not even unique in being a child of Fenris who's gay. They
_do_ exist." He pauses a beat. "Just not here."

Adrian shakes his head to disagree and then stops. "I want to be accepted,
I'm dong everyfuckingthing I can to do what they want me to. No matter how
hard I try, it isn't good enough and now this..." He sighs again as he
finishes off the rice.

"Perhaps you're trying too hard?" the Walker suggests. "Doing your best
merely for the approval of your elders can be as off-putting as doing
_nothing_ to win the approval of your elders."

Adrian looks at Salem, his eyes serious, "If I don't do my best I get
threats. If I do, I get ignored. You tell me which is worse."

Salem is, if anything, just as serious; that thin little hint of a smile
on his lips contains no humor and doesn't get anywhere near his eyes.
"They are, of course, both less than tolerable. But that's the way some
elders teach, with the stick and no carrot." He tilts his head slightly.
"Do you want my advice?"

Adrian nods quietly, his eyes hungry and hopeful for advice.

"Owen and his pack are going to be gone for a while," Salem says, his
voice even and his expression neutral. "Forget him for now. Concentrate on
yourself. On being a Garou. On learning your auspice. Because, whether
you're Get or Gnawer or Gaian or _whatever_ tribe you are, you're needed
in this war. If your elders will give you no praise, forget praise. Or
seek it elsewhere. Within yourself, if you have to."

Adrian nods quietly, "Thanks Mr. Salem."

The 'mister' provokes a slight twitch around his mouth, neither a smile
nor a frown. "Just 'Salem' will do, Adrian."

Adrian smirks a bit and shrugs, "I thought you told me to call you 'Mr.
Salem' that first day we met. My apologies, Salem." He looks down then
back up at you, "You don't think Owen will cull me for this do you?"

Salem grunts. "Did I?" He gives his head a slight shake, dismissive, and
at the question he just looks back at the cub, solemn. "I don't know Owen
well enough to judge that." There's a grim touch in his voice that
indicates that culling is, indeed, a possibility.

Adrian sighs and looks down, "Maybe I should just take off. Leave here
entirely. That's a possibility too." He looks out the window and off into
the distence.

"Don't." Salem's firm about that. "If the Sept doesn't find you, the Enemy
will. You're safer with us. Even with Owen."

The fire escape clanks and rattles, as a set off feet make their way up.
Reaching the fire escape door, Renee lets herself inside. Over the
Galliards clothes is a heavy, old, and very ratty leather jacket. Overside
enough that it hem rests at the young woman's mid-calf and obscures her
outline.

Adrian says "But why not? You said there were other Septs out there. I
could find one of them and have it better. Why should I think Owen or
Jamethon would even tell the Sept I was gone? Maybe they'd be relieved teh
faggot had left. Aand at least with the enemy, I'll die fighting, doing
what I'm supposed to suppossedly do. Better that then being culled by a
homophobe, don't ya think?" The young Cub looks to the person on the fire
escape."

Salem is seated on the couch, arms folded, while Adrian is at the divider
with the remains of a meal. Lyra's out of view, but can be heard puttering
around in the kitchen. The Walker sits up, turning an eye to the new
arrival for a moment before directing his attention, and an answer, back
to Adrian. "You won't reach another Sept, Adrian. The closest is Western
Eye, and last I heard they were still beseiged. And the thing about the
Spirals is that they _won't_ kill you. They can make you wish you were
dead and they can destroy your soul, but they don't have to kill you."

"Leaving isn't a good idea," Lyra affirms, coming out of the kitchen with
a giant plastic platter. She's got a tight grip on it- the large bowl,
full of steaming soup, is pretty heavy, and the side dish of a dozen
spring rolls only adds to the weight. With a wince of relief, she sets it
down on the wobbly card table, then reaches over the divider for the
bowls, spoons, and tiny plates. She would smile at Adrian's appetite, but
it's not the time for smiles. "Adrian, remember when Jamethon gave you
that token? He doesn't want you culled. And there're too few of us to be
culled for what we are...I mean, by that logic Owen-rhya would kill Mama
Kaz." A hazel sideglance to Salem, wondering if Owen would indeed do such
a thing.

Adrian sighs and looks down again, he seems rather broken hearted. He nods
and moves over to sit in teh living room, weighing his choices.

Renee steps into the kitchen and removes the oversized leather jacket,
dropping the well-worn garment into a corner of the room. "Allo Salem,
what bring you here?" The Galliard asks, irritation and fustration making
it into her voice. Taking her eyes of the Walker, Renee offers Lyra a
faint smile. "Feedin' everyone? Seen your Aunt, yet?"

"Afternoon, Renee," Salem replies, coolly. He glances at his watch. "And I
was just heading out." To prove it, the Walker rises from the couch and
picks up his coat.

The Gnawer cubling frowns at Renee slightly, as one arm wraps about
herself. The rib has long since healed, the bruises faded- and she was
never one to hold a grudge for long, anyway. "I'm thinking of starting a
halfway house," Lyra replies softly, setting up plates and silverware. "No
sign of Auntie yet-" She stops, looks up at Salem in surprise. "Are you
sure, rhya? I mean, it's too much for just the two, er, three of us."

Renee tilts her head to one side. "That would actually be a good idea, if
ya could pull it off. You'd haveta ask your Aunt, such things agint cheep.
You'd haveta let her do most of the runnin' too, ya know. The curse would
start gettin' ta people, if there were too many of us tryin' ta help out."
A look over at Salem, cool. "Don't leave cause of me. Jus' surprised ta
see ya here."

"I'm sure," Salem tells Lyra, shrugging into his coat. "I'm due at work
soon." He gives another glance at his watch, then tugs down the sleeve of
the coat.

Adrian looks over at Salem, "Thanks again, Salem... for the advice and
all..." There is defiantely respect in the Get's eyes for the Walker, "I'm
glad you didn't kill me when we met." He kinda smiles, it's hald a joke
and half serious.

A faint smile at Salem, another half wave. "Okay, then, I won't forget
about the brownies for Cat." She looks over at Adrian, smile turning into
a grin as she looks back at the Walker, then shakes her head and starts
setting out napkins. "Violets, -honestly.-"

Salem replaces his sunglasses and gives the Get cub a thin, knife-moon
smile once his eyes are hidden. "You're welcome." He gives both Gnawers a
brief nod, then departs.