hazlogs: Glass Walker Glyph (Glass Walker)
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It is currently 10:00 Pacific Time on Sat Sep 21 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 39
degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from
the north at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.22 and steady, and
the relative humidity is 100 percent. The dewpoint is 39 degrees Fahrenheit
(3 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (96% full).

Location: The apartment over the Yellow River Medicine Shop


A knock comes on the door to the upstairs apartment sometime around ten in
the morning, brief and light.

Sees-True was sleeping near the fire escape entrance in lupus, but Salem's
arrival wakes the Galliard. Rising with a yawn, Renee returns to her birth
form. Rubbing at her eyes, she answers the door. Only to stop dead in her
tracks when she sees who it is. Renee's clothes are stained and scuffed up,
from her brief fight with Alicia.

Salem's long hair is still damp from a recent shower, neatly combed back,
and his eyes are hidden behind the usual dark glasses. Composed and calm --
in appearance, anyway, and as much as a Garou like Salem can be on a full
moon -- the Philodox offers Renee a small white paper bag from a local deli;
there's the scent of a fresh bagel inside. "Good morning. Did I wake you?"

Renee blinks a handful of time, looking between Salem's face and the paper
bag. "Yea." A hand reaches out, tentativly taking the offered bag. "I spent
mosta last night runnin'." The Gnawer takes a step back, seemingly uncertain
how to deal with the situation. "Suppose ya can come in."

Salem glances past Renee into the apartment. "I don't wish to intrude." He
looks back at her, still with that facade of calm. "I wished, however, to
ask you about what happened in the park last night."

Renee scowls, fingers crunching up the bag in her hands. "She dinna like
what I was drawing, so took somethin' that wasn't hers an' wouldn't give it
back."

Salem slips his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Care to give me more
detail?" There's a bit of an edge in his voice.

Renee keeps her eyes on Salem, espically on the hand that just slipped out
of view. "Ain't that much else to it. I was drawin' her brother, so she got
all huffy an' took my pad away. She wouldn't give it back when I told her
too."

Behind the dark lenses, Salem's gaze remains steady on the Gnawer's face.
"At what point did you decide to pull a knife on her? And how did Jarred get
involved?"

Renee's expression twists. "Can't tell ya fer certain. Things started ta get
a little fuzzy." No, the Gnawer doesn't like admitting this at all. "Was
gettin' hard ta keep things under taps. She was threatenin' me, if I so much
as looked at her brother." The young woman sighs heavily, running a hand
over her hair. "Whats with her?"

Salem purses his lips, considering Renee for a moment before answering.
"Mnh. She's protective of her brother. She was probably concerned about your
intentions." His tone of voice is completely neutral.

Renee rolls her eyes. "What am I gonna do to him, beat'em?"

Salem arches a brow. "Date him." Perfectly neutral, perfectly deadpan.

Renee's jaw just about drops out of her head. "You're shitting me!?" Renee's
eyes bug out and she slaps a hand over her mouth, dropping the white baggie.
Shit, crap, fuck, bloody big mouth.

There's silence for a moment, after this. A wordless moment in which Salem
simply looks down at Renee, his expression coldly impassive. Slowly, he
takes his hands -- empty -- out of his pockets and folds his arms across his
chest.

Renee just groans, sinking down into a sitting position and covere her head
with her arms.

Salem lets the silence drag out a few more seconds before speaking. "Look at
me, Renee."

Renee slowly lifts her head to look at Salem, conflicting emotions on her
face. The young woman is fustrated, crushed, angry, and it shows. "Gonna
gloat now?"

Salem's mouth twitches with a repressed grimace. The effect of it is still
audible in his voice. "No. Actually, I'm going to offer you a choice." He
cocks his head slightly, brows arched.

Renee scowls, studying Salem and trying to figure out if he is mocking her.
"Yea, what is it?" The words are cautious, suspicious.

There's nothing of mockery in the Walker's manner. He's as cold as the
Weaver and as arrogant as a Shadow Lord, but he's not mocking her; nor does
he appear to be gloating over her verbal slip. "You can concede the
challenge now, accepting failure. Or, you may continue in the terms of the
challenge for an extra ten days, and I will disregard both your use of
profanity and the fact that you pulled a knife and threatened my packmate."

Renee stares at Salem, then her face twists up in Rage. "Last I checked,"
the Gnawer growls, "She was threatinin' me."

Salem's own Rage snarls in response, twitching under his carefully-composed
face; his nostrils flare as he inhales a breath, lips parting to show the
merest hint of teeth. "Which is why I'm offering you this choice, rather
than declaring this challenge over right now. So. Make one. Fail, or
continue until October the twentieth."

Renee's fingers twitch. "I want ya ta answer me somthin' first. Do ya even
know why I'm doin' this? Why I'm practically killin' myself over this?"

Salem shows no trace of sympathy, and his answer has a bitingly sardonic
edge to it. "I wouldn't presume to make assumptions about _any_ of your
motivations. So tell me."

"Cause I'm tired," Renee growls. "I'm sick an' tired of people lookin' at me
an' assumin' that I ain't good at anything. I'm good at bein' Garou, I'm
good at bein' a Gallaird. John keeps tellin' me I ain't got any self
respect, but I do. An' my own share of pride." The Gnawers teeth grind, Rage
shimmering just bellow the surface. It took alot of willpower to keep things
under wraps last night and its even harder now. "If I'm gonna prove ta
anyone that I'm worth somethin', I'm gonna haveta do it on their terms an'
thats what I'm tryin' ta do. I ain't gonna lay down an' die. I'm gonna keep
doin' this if it kills me. Bein' stubborn hasta be good for somethin'."

Salem's arms remain folded; the hand that's visible tightens, fingers
digging into his arm and wrinkling the sleeve of his coat. His stance
becomes more rigid as he tightens the leash on the frothing monster under
his skin. "So," he says, when she's done. "You'll continue the challenge,
then?"

Renee flashes her teeth in a brief snarl. "The day I back down from anythin'
jus' cause its hard, is the day I stop bein' me. Even if I'm doin' somethin'
that was made ta be nearly impossible."

There's a hint of a sneer on Salem's lips at the word 'impossible'. "Fine,
then. The slate is wiped clean. You have until the twentieth. I suggest that
you refrain from further backsliding."

Renee catches that hint of a sneer and and reflects it with one of her own.
"Lets see you try not ta swear for a month."

"Fine," answers the Walker, bitingly. "If you require an example to follow,
so be it."

Renee grins. "I'll hold ya to that." The young woman seems to be in a bit
more control now, as she stands back up. "An' tell Alicia ta chill. I ain't
after her brother an I ain't gonna hurt him."

Salem unfolds his arms, tugging at his coat sleeve to smooth it out, his
motions careful and precise; the rage within him still snaps and snarls.
"I'll relay the message." Turning to go, he adds, "Enjoy the bagel."

Renee watches the Walker leave, before closing the door behind him.

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