Jamethon's Challenge

[hazlogs]

It is currently 13:08 Pacific Time on Thu Oct 24 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is partly sunny. The temperature is 48
degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The
barometric pressure reading is 30.00 and falling, and the relative
humidity is 86 percent. The dewpoint is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees
Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (79% full).

Location: Harbor Park Fountain

Julie can be seen, by any who would be curious enough, meandering about
the park, peering into the fountain, throwing rocks in the river. She
either has nothing else to do, or thinking some things through.

Salem comes into view from another part of the park, moving closer to the
fountain at a restless prowl, his coat buttoned and belted closed and his
hands pushed deep into his pockets. His body language is tense, his face
rigidly pensive, and dark glasses hide his eyes.

Julie, having had enough of failing at rock skipping on the river's
surface, she turns away, plodding aimlessly in the direction of the
fountain, in the thought of sitting on one of the benches for a while.
Plait-veiled gaze catches sight of Salem, and she slows, watching him,
almost warily.

With the moderate sixth sense of the edgy, Salem halts his progress and
turns to look directly at the Gnawer girl. His jaw tightens as he studies
her from behind obscuring lenses.

Julie can't help but wince a bit, any comments dreaming up to lighten the
mood dying before they're spoken. A glance down, and an apparently random
shift of direction has her path veering just a bit more away and around,
to a different bench than the one she'd just had in mind.

She doesn't escape so easily, however; the saturnine Glass Walker seems to
have fixated on her for the moment. "I remember you," he says.

Julie drags her feet to a stop, and turns to face him a bit more fully.
Even straightens up a bit, and lifts her chin, though mostly so he can see
her better. "I'm Julie."

Salem steps forward, closing the distance between them with the
deliberateness of a pacing jaguar, hands still buried in coat pockets. "I
know."

Julie shifts her weight from one foot to the other, watching him. A little
nervous? Maybe. "Somethin' botherin' ya?" Maybe get him talking, he'll
calm a bit. Or at least give her time to find an easy escape route, in
case she needs it. She even smiles a little.

Rather than answer her question, Salem asks one of his own. "Where did you
go, exactly, after you left town?" He stops about a yard away from her and
tilts his head, favoring one eye over the other.

Julie relaxes slightly. A question she's been expecting from quite a few
Sept members. "Well, can't say 'exactly', cuz I wandered a lot. Mostly
east, an' through the central states." Her gaze is open, what can be seen
through the interfering braids in her face, and honest.

Salem is standing about a yard away from the Bone Gnawer, his manner less
than friendly, though he doesn't seem likely to attack her within the next
few minutes. "And you did nothing but wander, looking for your... father,
was it?" He hasn't noticed the Get's approach yet.

Jamethon notes outloud at this point. "A father is an important thing,
Salem." This said as his silent approach ends standing looking into the
fountain, a few feet from the two.

Julie catches movement nearby, but doesn't look away from Salem. Something
tells her that, at this moment, would be very unwise to do. While Jamethon
might be right, she answers for herself as well. "M' father, m'self, a
bit, too. Facin' m' demons, so t' speak."

Salem stiffens as the Get speaks and turns, noting Jamethon out of the
corner of his good eye. "Mmn," he says, completely noncommital on the
subject. But a bit of the intensity edges back as he addresses the Get of
Fenris. "Jamethon. How's the challenge going?"

Julie absently scratches at her scarred cheek, before stepping aside to
get to one of the benches and sit. She keeps watching Salem, and Jame,
now, too.

Jamethon turns from the water to Salem and smiles calmly. "It goes. I'm in
the final leg of it, so to speak. I came to the fountain hoping to find
some people who had... something perhaps, to prove?"

Behind the dark glasses, Salem's eyes narrow. "How do you mean?"

Julie quirks both eyebrows up, curiouser now than before.

Jamethon regards Salem for a moment, then tilts his head slightly to look
over Julie meaningfully. "I am charged with the killing of at least one
Spiral Dancer. I am to bring his head back here as proof. I need a pack of
able Cliaths to join me in the hunt. Glory in the hunt. Honor in the
fight. Wisdom of taking what you have come to get, then returning home
alive. All three of the aspects of Reknown, for those who are brave
enough."

The muscles in the Walker's jaws tighten, and whatever tension that might
have bled away at the Get's approach has returned. After a heartbeat, he
shakes his head. "Tempting," he says, rather coolly, "but I have more
pressing responsibilities."

Julie just kind of blinks, especially since Jame was looking her way as
he'd spoke. Incredulous, really. For the moment, though, she stays quiet.

Jamethon nods and continues to regard Julie after Salem says his peace.
"You said at the moot you were looking for a way to make up for leaving?"

Julie shrugs, but nods. "Yeah, I did." And she's thinking, you can bet on
it. "When you wanna go? Cuz, see, I gotta let Renee know, so she's not
left hangin', what with takin' up the Eldership an' all."

Jamethon nods to Julie quickly. "I'm not sure, but very soon. Very, very
soon. Once I have brought together a reasonably sized pack. I will bring
us before a spirit that will tell us where to find what we seek, and the
hunt will begin."

Salem regards the Bone Gnawer again, studying her, then turns to James. "I
wish you luck. Now, if you two will excuse me..." He turns to go.

Jamethon nods once more, a gesture of thanks. "Salem." He says in parting.
"I too need to get going... I don't have much time to bring this pack
together and I must find more."

Julie glances skyward thoughtfully a moment, then stands as Salem turns to
go. "Catcha later," she says, friendly enough. Then she turns to regard
Jamethon seriously. "You /sure/ you want me t' go 'long? I mean, sure, I
cou'd tell a helluva story for ya, but whatcha see in me that wou'd make
me a good candidate? This /is./ yer challenge, an' you wou'dn't wanna
screw it up."

Salem grunts at the Get. "If I think of any suitable candidates, I'll send
them your way. Be seeing you." He leaves, then, moving away from the pair
and heading toward the streets.