hazlogs | Renee's Not Mad

It is currently 08:02 Pacific Time on Sat Nov 9 2002.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 47
degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the east at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.48 and
rising, and the relative humidity is 97 percent. The dewpoint is 46
degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (28% full).

Andy's Old Fashioned Donuts

A small quaint donut shop, tastefully done in blue and white. A glass
case, showing a variety of fresh donuts stands at the back of the store.
Standing behind the glass case, a small old woman, looking to be in her
sixties, is busy with customers. A young girl, slightly taller than the
old woman and looking to be around sixteen rushes back and forth through a
swinging door, bringing out trays of donuts or coffee or other delicious
smelling items.

A sturdy door to the south opens out onto the street. Small round metal
tables have been set out near the window, '+help places' will assist you
in seating.

The Glass Walker Elder -- the new one, Scarface Number One, now -- sits at
a table near the front with a cup of coffee and today's newspaper. He
leans back in his chair, his expression drawn and tired, eyes hidden
behind the ever-present dark glasses. He's staring out the window, it
seems.

Staring out the window, Salem has no problem catching sight of Renee as
she moves past him and walks into the shop a moment later. She has a
couple or crumpled dollar bills in one hand. Reaching the counter, she
orders a small coffee and a donut.

Salem doesn't react, not visibly in any case. Then again, it's his scarred
side, the blind side, that's closer to the window, and the shadowed lenses
hide whether or not his eyes are even open. His face is one of a man tired
enough to sleep sitting up.

"Ya look tired enough ta fall out of that chair," Renee rumbles, having
walked up behind the Walker.

Salem stirs, shifting his weight and sitting up His face half-turns toward
the Bone Gnawer, the line of his jaw tightening, and then he turns away to
lift the styrofoam cup of coffee to his face for a drink. "Good morning,
Renee," he rasps.

Renee tilts her head to one side, just studying the Walker for a moment.
Her hands open up the plastic lid on her cup and takes a sip from her own
caffiene-ladden drink. "When was the last time ya slept?"

"None of your business," he replies curtly. The dark lenses focus coldly
on the young Galliard.

Renee shrugs, continuing to watch the Philodox calmly. "Jus' askin'." The
Gnawer just continues to stand there, sipping from her coffee.

After a moment of this, Salem closes the open newspaper in front of him
and leans back in the chair again. "Is there anything I can help you
with?"

Renee raises one shoulder, in yet another shrug. "Jus' ta let ya know that
I ain't pissed at ya. You were in yer rights. Didn't like waking up like
that an' a little warnin' woulda been nice, but ya were in yer rights."

The *chirpchirp* of a car alarm being activiated outside precludes Ebony's
entrance into the quaint little shop. The lanky kin wanders in with an air
of aimlessness, absently tucking keys into his pocket as he approaches the
glass display containing donuts.

Salem glances up at the other man's arrival, giving him a nod before
facing Renee directly. "You needed a touch of the same fear you gave
Jeremy," he tells her, coldly.

Renee's jaw clenches and the paper bag with the donut in it gets squished.
"Ya managed that jus' fine. Didn't know what was on my tail. An' I
considered him a friend, still do. Don't like scarin' friends an' havin'
him scared of me hurts more then what you did. Has he talked to you?"

Ebony orders himself a donut and mug of tea. Real tea, none of this iced
stuff. "I'll be over there," he tells the cashier, paying for his order
and pointing to the Groob-occupied table. Then, he heads over, hands
tucked in pockets. "Mornin'."

"Not recently, no. Good morning, Ebony." Salem tips back his cup of
coffee, finishing it, and pushes his chair back, preparing to stand. To
the Gnawer, he says, "We all lose our tempers. Next time, think prudently
and _leave_."

The door squeaks open, and Craig steps inside, looking the place over.
Familiar faces draw his attention away from the enticing donuts, and he
ambles towards the table. "Morning Eb, Renee." His usual lazy grin gets a
little more nervous when he greets the girl.

Renee doesn't coment on that, taking a step back and drinking from her own
coffee. Like Mr. High and Mighty has always been able to just walk away
and /leave/. Bah.

Ebony plunks himself down next to Renee, offering Salem a casual salute as
he's greeted. "How's things s'mornin'?" he inquires genially of nobody in
particular, then looks over towards Craig and offers a grin by way of
greeting.

Salem turns the dark, reflective lenses over onto Craig, studying the
youth impassively for a moment, then excuses himself and departs. He
leaves the newspaper behind on the table for whoever wishes to claim it.