What's in the Pills?

[hazlogs]

It is currently 21:50 Pacific Time on Thu Oct 17 2002.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (76% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is clear outside. The temperature is 53
degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The
barometric pressure reading is 29.86 and rising, and the relative humidity
is 83 percent. The dewpoint is 48 degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius.)

Location: Red Mill Apartments #219

Salem's arrival is, as usual, announced by the rattle of keys in locks.
The Philodox stalks in, fresh from his drive from the airport -- 'fresh'
being a figure of speech. He's disgruntled, tired, vaguely rumpled, eyes
shadowed behind the dark glasses, long black coat smelling somewhat of
cigarette smoke. The single black satchel carryon he took with him is
slung over his right shoulder.

...To be promptly stopped by an expectant Cat, standing right in front of
the door so that Salem can't take but half a step unless he wants to trod
on tails, so to speak. The apartment looks in perfect order; the boy's
jacket is folded neatly and laying on the arm of the couch. A roach is
perched happily on the bookshelf. And the cub- shirt pressed and tucked,
regrowing hair neatly brushed -smiles faintly at Salem.

Salem stops short, upper lip twitching upward, startlement triggering a
nasty restlessness in an already frayed temper. He reins it back in
sharply, nostrils flaring as he inhales a breath, and then Jack unslings
the satchel and hangs it to the waiting cub. "Cat. Still alive. Good."

The cub takes the bag without a word, stepping aside to let the cliath
pass easily, and so that he can lock the door behind him. "Did you have a
good trip, Salem-rhya?" he asks softly, looking around the room for an
appropriate place to put the satchel.

Salem offers no clues for the placement of luggage -- though, considering
that it probably contains clothes, mostly, the bedroom seems most
suitable. "Fine," he rumbles, shrugging out of his coat as he heads for
the couch. He's limping, favoring his right leg, very slightly, almost
unnoticably. "Except for the actual flying, of course. He drops the coat
onto the coffee table and then drops himself onto the couch, both
unceremoniously. His head tilts back against the back of the couch, face
pointed ceilingwards, tension and tiredness warring with each other. "And
you? Have a good week by yourself?"

The ever-watchful blue eyes of Cat do notice the limp, although whether he
recognizes it as important is another matter. The locks are locked, the
bag shifted to his shoulder before his arm gets tired of carrying it.
"John-rhya stopped by and then he and Miz Rina took me home for dinner
once," he replies, sounding vaguely distant. Which is at odds with his
face, because he's watching Salem with a determined intensity. The stare
is broken as the boy starts off towards the bedroom to deposit the bag.

Salem misses the cub's facial expression, and he answers with a muttered,
"Good." As Cat goes off toward the bedroom, the halfmoon removes his
sunglasses and rubs at his eyes, then passes the hand down his face. He
grumbles a short word in Serbian and then hauls himself back to his feet,
limping toward the kitchen. "Anything else? Any other news?"

Cat enters the bedroom, drops the satchel by the side of the door gently,
and turns to face the living room, one hand still bracing against the
doorway. "Not...not really. Nobody else stopped by, or called, or
anything." A pause. "The San Francisco Giants won their game," he adds
helpfully.

Salem gets out a glass and fills it with water from the tap. His head
turns so he can eyeball the cub dubiously. "Mmn-hm. You were bored, then?"

The boy runs his hand through his stubbly hair, giving Salem that odd look
that somehow is watchful and yet blank at the same time. "No, I was busy.
John-rhya stopped by."

Salem's eyes narrow as he studies the boy's face now, intently,
scrutinizing it. "You said that already. Something I should know about?"

Cat blinks in apparent confusion, then shakes his head almost
thoughtfully. Wasn't it obvious? "I've decided what I want to do with my
life," he murmurs softly.

There is a loud, hurried banging on the door from outside.

Maybe it is, but after spending the entire day in airports and on
airplanes, dealing with delays, twitchy people, too _many_ people, wailing
infants, jet lag, and Gaia only knows what _else_ on this waxing gibbous
moon -- Salem shakes his head sharply, mouth pulling into a tight grimace.
"Good, I--" The knocking interrupts him. He stares at the door balefully
for a moment, then sighs and waves Cat toward it. "Get that, please?"

If the cub wasn't confused before, he is now. Glancing at Salem in clear
surprise, Cat heads to the door. A quick glance shows it to be Alicia. Not
that the cub's met Alicia enough times to recognize her by name. "It's a
lady," he announces. "She's a Garou, but I don't remember her name." He
twists to look over his shoulder back at the Walker cliath, still on
tiptoe.

Buzzing excitedly, there is a voice behind the door, muffled, and rapid.
Then, another serious of knocks, quick. "Yo! Open up!"

Salem leans against the counter that separates the kitchen from the rest
of the front room and rubs at his eyes again with another muttered Serbian
word. "If I've introduced her to you, let her in. Christ."

Frowning at that rather irreverent use of the Savior's name, Cat goes back
to flat feet and undoes the locks, eyeing the woman standing out there
impatiently with a baleful, well-I-guess-you-got-what-you-wanted
expression. "H'lo," he mumbles.

The phone rings.

Quickly bursting into the room, Alicia is saying the last piece over the
phone, hanging up with a snap of her wrist. She looks sweaty, face red,
panting, her sweater soaked. It looks like she was running for quite some
time. With a huff, she says. "Salem.. I just called John. He's coming
over, I just had a bomb dropped on me."

"And hello to you too, Alicia," says the halfmoon, deadpan, rumpled. "Your
timing is impeccable." He looks like he's only just gotten back and shows
all the signs of a miserable flight and a fattening moon. The phone?
That's just icing. Salem grimaces and picks it up. "Jack here."

The cub bolts for the couch, flopping down onto it in a very Quentin-like
manner. His gaze drifts from Alicia to Salem. He tends to steal worried
glimpses of the Gaian, afraid of her.

Rina's voice is quiet, touched with hoarseness. Wherever she is sounds a
little noisy in the background. "Can you tell the kid somethin' for me?"

Alicia shakes her fingers out a bit, buzzing with energy as she paces the
room, tossing a wave over to Salem before he answers. "Hey, Hi..
Salutations, Bonjour, Hola', Kumusta." She swallows, then flops down on
the couch next to Cat. "Hey kiddo."

A bloodshot, shadowed gaze keeps attentive on both Gaian and cub as Salem
speaks into the phone. "Rina? He's right here. I can put him on, if you
like." He takes a swallow of water, his voice mildly hoarse.

Rina swallows. Over the phone, as if distant, he hears someone screaming,
and she speaks quickly to cover the sound. "No, no, it's aright. Just...
just tell him I can't come tomorrow. I--I'm sorry."

Alicia gets a second look up and down. It's clear that it's taking a great
deal of will to keep Cat from bolting away from the couch. Women scared
him...loud women, even more. "H'lo," he repeats grudgingly.

Pulling her hair back behind her, Alicia slides the scrunchie off her
wrist and ties it up into a pony tail so that it will stop flopping in her
face. She lets out a slow breath to kill the adrenaline rush from her bolt
across the city. "Mmm.. "

Salem shifts his eyes away from the pair on the couch as he focusses a bit
more sharply on the phone. "Where are you?"

Cat pulls his legs up on the couch and curls into the arm of it, hands
around his ankle as he watches Alicia tie back her hair. Still wary.

Rina swallows. "I have to go," she says hoarsely. "Just tell him."

Salem's free hand comes up and massages gently at his forehead, elbow
resting on the counter. His eyes close briefly. "...Right," he says
tiredly. "Fine. Consider him told."

She lets out a breath. "Thanks, Jack." There is a voice in the background,
insistent. "I gotta go. Thanks."

Alicia is quiet, mulling something in her head as she pulls out a small
bag, peering at a few red pills within. She eyes them, intently, then
looks back over to Salem, waiting.

"Welcome," Salem replies, still massaging his forehead.

Cat glances over at the kitchen, a slight frown still on his face. Who was
that on the phone?

Click.

Salem straightens up, eyeing the wireless handset for a moment before
returning it to its cradle. "Christ," he mutters again, then turns back to
his cub and his visitor. The halfmoon reaches for that characteristic
brisk, businesslike manner and half-manages to reach it. "That was Rina,
Cat. She apologizes, but says she can't come tomorrow." Then he takes a
sip of water and turns a weary gaze onto Alicia. "So. Bomb?"

"Welcome home." Alicia says wryly as she tosses him the bag with the pills
in it. "John is coming over. The three of us need to pick each other's
brains about this. I just found out something that hasn't been caught on
yet."

The frown deepens a bit, and the cub turns his face down to his lap.
"Kay," he murmurs softly, none too adept at hiding his disappointment. He
picks at a fluffy on his slacks, stealing a look towards the bedroom.
Sleeping sounded good. And he could unpack Salem's clothes while he was at
it.

Salem catches the baggie, glances at it, and then sets it on the counter.
"Lovely," he rasps. "Hold it then, until Smith arrives."

Alicia nods her head and relaxes a bit onto the couch, drawing a knee to
her chest.

Prophetic, those words. The door is knocked upon.

As inconspicuously as he can manage, Cat gets up from the couch and heads
to the bedroom, sighing softly as he enters the doorway. His good news was
apparently not nearly as good as he thought, and Miz Rina wasn't even
going to visit later. Well, laundry to fold...the door knocking encourages
him to close the bedroom door behind him. It was probably another girl.

Salem takes another swallow of water, then sets the glass down and heads
for the door, the predatory stalk somewhat broken by the presence of a
slight limp; the halfmoon's favoring his right leg. He glances through the
peephole, then undoes the locks and opens the door for the Ahroun.
"Evening." His voice is flat. He steps aside, gesturing wearily,
irritably, toward the couch. "Come in, take a seat, et cetera."

Alicia perks up at the sound of knocking and shifts a bit to watch the
door. Upon John's apperance, she lifts a hand and waves over towards the
Ahroun. "Hey boss."

While the visitor at the door does have a grace to his movements and a
certain elegance of features, he's far from a woman. Especially now - he
looks something like hell warmed over, unshaven and red-eyed; perhaps from
a lack of sleep. John grunts in an uncharacteristically gravelly voice, "I
was on the way, actually. Looking for Cat. Lucky to see most of the family
here, I guess." Moving in, he looks to Alicia. "Keep me in suspense and I
/will/ kick your ass." Good Humour, thy name is /not/ John, tonight.

"I think our red happy pills are being distributed by vampires." Alicia
says in all seriousness, pursing her lips.

Salem eyes the Ahroun, thin-lipped, taking in the other Walker's
appearance with narrowed eyes. John actually looks worse than Jack. But no
comment on that; he closes and locks the door, turning just in time to
catch Alicia's news, and the tight grimace turns, briefly, into a
lifted-lip snarl. "Lovely."

John might as well not have heard, for all the recognition he shows. Or
emotion... The Walker Elder just stands there for a while, looking utterly
blank and emotionless, eyes half-lidded and considering a patch of space
somewhere near waist-height and to the side. His hands aren't in his coat
pockets, and they're not even balled up into fists, either. The Ahroun
just stands there. Silent.

"I had someone analyze this for me. Its just like E.. with some rare
organic crap, right? He came back an told me its /blood/." Alicia says,
propping her chin up in the palm of her hand. "The things show up as
tainted, kinda, but not to the point where its completely Wyrm. Just like
a vampire would, or, in some cases, a fomori. What I am thinking, is that
they are using the pills with their own blood in it, having young kids
swallow enough of these, turn 'em into ya'know.. blood dolls? Dependants?
What is the word I am looking for? Slaves? Um... you know.. help me out, I
heard this shit before... you drink enough vampire blood an you are what?
Bound?"

"Blood bonded," Salem rasps. He leans back against the door, arms folded,
one hand coming up to rub at his forehead again. "Drink enough of a
vampire's blood and you're slaved to them, even if not ghouled."

There's nothing from the Ahroun. No more recognition, save a twitch at his
eye when Alicia mentions the possibility of the pills having vampire blood
in them. Only that twitch, and nothing more. John stands silent and
unmoving. His eyes move slightly over that riveting patch of space -
apparently considering, quietly.

".... Didn't you say Rina was tripping on that shit?" Alicia asks, raising
up a brow slowly, glancing to the silent Ahroun. "Dude, you ok?"

Salem lifts his head and studies John again with shadowed, intent eyes.
"Rina _was_ 'tripping on that shit,'" he says dully, answering Alicia. His
gaze never leaves the Ahroun.

John's eyes seem to do a slow crawl over more imaginary space before he
turns his head a little; it's as if the head turning begins a momentum
that the rest of the body gradually follows through, with the Walker Elder
eventually moving to walk quietly out of the apartment without a word.
Stopped by the presence of Salem with his back to the door, John lifts a
careful hand to gently push the packmate out of the way, by his shoulder.

"Oh yah.. he's fine." Alicia says, hopping to her feet. Moving over, she
hopes to meet up with him. "John.. John, please say something. I need
feedback here."

Salem stiffens, straightening up, his eye seeking the Ahroun's own; his
hand comes up to grip the other's forearm. He doesn't say anything, though
his expression is grim enough.

John has an edge in that both of his eyes focus directly on Salem's one.
Not exactly dull or dead, they're a more active, tense, /cold/ kind of
emotionlessness. The Ahroun whispers - very softly, "Move." The tight
control in every minute movement from John may be familiar with Salem. But
one thing's for certain, and easy to remember, looking into John's
dispassionate gaze... Those eyes are the last thing that hundreds have
seen before departing this world.

Sighing, Alicia pauses in her step and shifts her weight to one hip, arms
crossing over her chest. She's tired, and getting her ass beat by John
isn't a comforting thought. She'll let the half moon work this out and
only step in if needed.

Salem's nostrils flare, and his chin tips upward minutely, the gesture
defiant, not throat-baring. The weariness simply drops away, vanishes.
Gone. He holds the gaze for maybe a second, maybe a second and a half,
long enough... but not _too_ long. Then his hand moves away from the
Ahroun's arm and, very deliberately, he steps aside.

The door is quietly opened. The Ahroun steps through without looking over
his shoulder or uttering a single word. The door closes, making a gentle
'click' sound of completion. Silence.

"Hey, I think he took that well." Alicia says after watching him leave,
tossing a look towards Salem. "So, should I call Yi an see if she wants to
be a tracking device tonight to make sure he doesn't kill 'emself? Or,
just assume the best?"

Once the door closes again, the weariness returns. Salem drags a hand back
through unkempt hair and starts limping in the direction of the bathroom.
"Leave him. He's a big boy. He can take care of himself."

Alicia nods her head and lets out a quick breath, then glances towards her
half moon pack brother. She flexes her fingers a bit, then flops onto the
couch again. "Alright.. it makes so much sense now. The organized, clean
raves... the new red pills distributed, the violent reactions some of the
kids are making towards the stuff."

The light clicks on in the bathroom and spills out the door, and it's a
small enough apartment that Salem has little trouble continuing the
conversation as he opens the medicine cabinet over the sink and retrieves
the bottle of aspirin. "'Neo-Night'. That makes sense, too. Unimaginative,
though." He shakes two out and dry-swallows them. "Wonder what 'UL' is
supposed to stand for."

Alicia ponders for a moment as she thinks, rubbing her temple. "Nothing
obvious probably.. thats for sure. Ultra-Lame?"

Salem makes a noise that's more snort than laugh and somewhat lacking in
humor. "Maybe we'll find out before we kill them." He turns off the
bathroom light and returns, fingers dragging back through his hair again,
pulling it back, away from his face. Despite the tiredness, he's too
restless to sit down and paces the length of the apartment.

"Ever heard of a beat cop named Nicodemous? Gothic? Kinda spooky, but cool
in a way?" Alicia asks, watching him momentarily.

Salem nods. He stops near the bookshelf, resting a hand on the wall near
it. "Spoken to him a few times. He used to be a friend of Sally's."

"That chick ya used to fuck?" Alicia says, then can't help the huge grin
that spreads across her face. OH yes Roger, you'll always live in our
hearts. "He told me about the blood in the pills, he's been helping me out
with the investigation."

Salem's eyes narrow; he is definitely not in the mood for jokes, and
there's a touch of disgust in the twist of his mouth that speaks volumes.
Disgust and irritation. "He has? Do you trust him?"

"I trust 'em. Yah." Alicia says, bobbing her head. "He's a pretty straight
guy, arrested someone in front of me once for kicking the shit out of his
dog. He's just as interested in this as we are." She rubs at her chin a
bit.

"You trust him to be straight with you, then." Salem's back to pacing,
limping a steady path back across the floor. "Who did he get to analyze
the pills?"

Alicia shrugs her shoulders. "No clue. But I figure as a cop, he has hook
ups, just like we do. Ya'know, maybe some hi tech fancy shit that can
break that stuff down?" She lifts a shoulder. "I didn't ask.. but.." She
reaches into her pocket, taking out the black buisness card with evil neon
green text. "This is his card, told me to contact him if I need to."

Salem crosses over toward the couch to take the business card and study
it. "Mnh." A suspicious twitch tugs at his mouth, then he shakes his head,
disregarding a thought. His eye flicks back toward Alicia. "Let me write
this down." And once again, he crosses the floor, this time to the
scratchpad kept by the phone. "Was he able to tell you anything else? He
keeps up with the club scene, doesn't he?"

"He does now at least. I met him at the Temple, danced with him a bit and
then told him about the pills. He wasn't aware of them at first and he
said he'd take a look into it." Alicia hooks a pair of thumbs into the
belt loops of her jeans.

Salem copies down the information on the business card, pausing once to
study it once more. "Might have a chat with him. See what else he managed
to turn up." The words are mild enough, but there's an edge in the
Walker's tone that gives the remark a touch of the sinister.

"I see. Good luck with that. On that note, I'm ganna see if I can find out
more of this Neo shit that is going on and find the next one that is
taking place near by, get tickets." Alicia tilts her head slightly towards
you. "Maybe snag ourselves an employee, bouncer, drag 'em off and find out
what they know, if anything."

Salem returns to the couch to give Nick's card back to the Gaian, then
joins her on the couch, sinking against the cushions with a grunt. "Try
the good cop method first," he suggests, stretching. "Use that Galliard
charm, and such." Relaxing out of the stretch, he glances toward the
trench coat that's still where he dropped it upon coming in, sprawled
shapelessly across the coffee table.

"That I can do, perhaps a lil persuasive gift to help turn the tide, eh'?
Unless of course all of 'em are blood suckers and it won't work for
beans." Alcia says, rolling a bit to face you, reaching out and tapping
your hand. "Ya think John will be ok out there, pissed?"

"Mm?" Salem tilts his head, focussing on the Gaian with that one brown
eye. "Oh, probably. As I said, he's a big boy." He rubs at the back of his
neck. "And if you don't mind terribly, Alicia, I very much need to get
some rest. It's been a less than pleasant day, Neo-Night's blood-drugs
notwithstanding."

Alicia nods her head and rises, then makes her way for the door. "Dude,
I'm with ya on that one. I'm tired as hell. Good night."

"Night," the Philodox responds. "We'll talk on this more. Soon."