Cassiel's First Change

[hazlogs]

It is currently 19:20 Pacific Time on Mon Jan 6 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is foggy. The temperature is 34 degrees
Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric
pressure reading is 30.16 and falling, and the relative humidity is 100
percent. The dewpoint is 34 degrees Fahrenheit (1 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (24% full).

Storeroom

A large, cold storeroom. Rows of empty metal shelves are bolted to the
concrete floor, and light's provided by a few naked light bulbs hanging
from the ceiling. There's a bare mattress on the floor, along with a caged
iguana and some of Cassiel's other things -- clothes, blankets, a pillow,
and the like. There's a bathroom at one end of the storeroom, but the
water's been turned off. The single door leading out is usually locked,
and has a bolt on the outside to secure it further.

Overall, for Cassiel, it's been a less-than-comfortable several days. On
the one hand, she's been fed regularly, she has a radio to listen to, she
has her iguana and some of her clothes and things. On the other hand, the
storeroom is often cold, and the bathroom accomodations are primitive.
Sometimes she can get the water to run from the tap, but it's a thin
brownish trickle. And there are cockroaches everywhere. They seem to be
increasing in number.

Early Monday evening now. There's the now-customary rattle of locks and
the sound of a bolt sliding back, noises announcing her jailer's arrival.
He comes bearing a pair of pizza boxes, while his blue-haired companion
has a three-liter bottle of Pepsi.

Cassiel is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mattress, glaring
towards the foul insects while one hand rests on the back of Godzilla, the
above-mentioned iguana, who's currently sprawled out in her lap. "Oh yay.
Visitors. There some sort of party being held here that I wasn't informed
of?" she asks in a low voice, refusing to look up at the entering duo.

"..Jesus, Salem, I think that television isn't very good for you.. you
been watching that prison drama, whassitcalled, 'Oz'?" The three-liter
swings absently from Quentin's hand, the ridge beneath its cap cradled
between two fingers as he looks around the cold stor-room, one brow
raising upwards as he asks wryly, "You couldn't find a better place for
her?"

Salem grimaces faintly, then goes cold. "I have better arrangements in
mind for when after she Firsts." He closes the door behind him, turning
the latch. Then he stalks over and drops the pizzas on Cassiel's mattress.
"Cass, this is Quentin. Another member of the family, born at the same
time of the lunar month as you were."

Cassiel flips open the box and grabs a slice, practically shoving it into
her mouth. Once she's done chewing and whatnot, she nods to Quentin but
does little more to acknowledge him. "What do you mean, lunar month? This
have something to do with all of this...werewolf stuff?" she asks,
reaching for another slice of the tasty food.

"Quentin, would you like to do the honors?" Salem folds his arms across
his chest. "Tell Cassiel about the five auspices."

The bottle of pepsi is swept up into the air, tossed and caught at
mid-body before it's set down beside the pizzas. "Sure, sure, soon as I
get to introduce myself," Quentin replies rather dryly, glancing over and
then offering a slightly crooked grin to Cassiel, "Don't mind him. He
likes people to think he's more of an asshole than he really is.. I'm
Quentin. And yeah, basically, it's kind of like a zodiac sign only it's
based on the moon-phase and determines what sort of job you get to do."

Cassiel doesn't smile back. She just stares, with this blank expression on
her face. "I somehow doubt the asshole thing is just an act. And I'd say
it's nice to meet you, but out of everyone I've said that to so far, I've
been regretting it." The second slice is polished off, her hands wiped on
the mattress, then she returns to petting the half asleep iguana. "Job? I
don't need a job, really. In fact, the only thing I do need is to get my
car and go home."

Salem snorts. "You're beginning to sound like a broken record." He
massages his knuckles, eyeballing the young woman with a critical,
calculating expression.

"I didn't say that all of it was," Quentin replies in tones as dry as ash,
glancing sidelong over towards Salem, "Just a good chunk of it. He's still
an asshole, just not as much of one as it seems. As for going home.. well.
S'not really an option just yet, I'm afraid.." A moment, and a touch sadly
he adds, "Maybe not ever. It's the price we pay."

Cassiel just snorts right back. "Better a broken record than a barely
contained serial killer, which is the only vibe I've gotten from you.
Well, that, and the wacko one." Her chilly gaze moves to Quentin for a
moment. "If you're worried about my family hunting for me, don't. I just
moved here by myself. Although, I'm sure my mother's going to be very
concerned when I don't call her."

"Fortunately," Salem says coolly, "she's not a minor. And people drop out
of touch all the time. And you _did_ take your clothes away with you,
along with your beloved pet. I've taken care of your vehicle."

Quentin's lips twist in a faint grin as he looks back to Cassiel,
apparently unoffended by being labeled 'the wacko one'. "I'm not. Look-- I
went through the same thing, just a few months ago. Snatched me off the
street and drove me off.. although, admittedly, I had a nicer place than
this to stay as I got acclimated to things. Once you change, you'll
understand."

Cassiel rolls her eyes at Salem, then crosses her arms over her chest.
"Then change me, so I can get the hell out of here and go back to my
attempt at a real life. Come on. Sprinkle me with pixie dust, do some
kinda stupid dance, whatever it is you crazy folk do. But make it quick,
I'm starting to get tired again."

"Quentin, hold her." Salem's patience is, apparantly, at an end. "Take her
arms. Shift if you have to."

As Cassiel speaks, Quentin actually winces slightly as though he knows
what's coming.. and, with a rather apologetic glance over towards the girl
he slides over to shift behind her and reaches out to grab hold of her
arms. Not roughly, or quickly. If she cooperates, this'd be easier. "You
did ask," he mutters, in dark tones as though he thought this was a poor
idea.

Cassiel blinks, her expression quickly becoming a shocked one as she tries
to get out of Quentin's grasp. "Hey! You guys really don't know how to
take a joke, do you?" Godzilla does the smart thing and runs off to hide
beneath something low to the ground and safely away from the scary guys.

At this moment, a ludicrously mundane thing happens--Salem's cellphone
rings.

Salem is in the process of unbuttoning his coat as the electronic little
ring makes itself known. He arches an eyebrow and plucks the cellphone
from his belt. He answers it briskly, one eye on Quentin and the unFirsted
cub. "Yes?"

Rhiannon pages to Salem: "Hey, it's me," says a voice that can only belong
to Rhiannon. The sound of her truck's engine is evident even over the
phone's speaker. "I'm pulling up right now."

Is the shift noticable? Quentin was a rather leanly-built, nearly slender
thing a moment ago, but there's quite a lot of muscle now as larger hands
slide to grip the girl's upper arms in a fiercer grip.. he didn't look
strong enough for that kind of thing just before, but now he does. Of
course, his face is out of view right now, but his voice has dropped an
octave as he rumbles, "Salem doesn't have much of a sense of humor,
unfortunately."

Cassiel frowns, her eyes squinting. "So I see," is her mumbled reply to
Quentin, just as the phone rings. She lets out a relieved sigh, but
doesn't stop trying to get away from Quentin, even if he does seem to be
the saner of the two.

"Fine, I'll be right down," Salem says into the phone, and then turns it
off. "That was Rhiannon," he says to Quentin, as he hooks the phone back
to his belt. "Keep an eye on things while I go walk her up." He turns
toward the door and heads out, adding, deadpan, "Her aim is better than
mine, anyway." Then he's gone, locking the door behind him.

"..what, am I just supposed to sit here and hold her until you get back?"
Quentin sounds a bit dubious, and as the philodox closes the door behind
him he releases the girl's arms and leans back a bit with a rather
frustrated sigh. Oh yes. He definately looks larger than when he first
came in.

Cassiel spins around, glaring angrily at the...thing that was a normal
teen just a moment ago. "Oh, wait, don't tell me. You've got that fancy
mysterious makeup artist too, right? Are you going to go all fangy and
furry like the last girl did?"

Quentin raises one thick brow in vague amusement at that, observing dryly,
"Fancy mysterious makeup artist? Look.. well.." He offers over his hand,
large and a bit hairy now, and challenges, "Here. You think this is fake?
Do whatever you want, find out one way or another."

Cassiel shakes her head. "I know it's not fake...but I'm not sure -what-
it is. I held the arm of the last girl who came to visit as she turned
into that...large furry thing. For all I know, you guys could be putting
some heavy drugs into my food or something."

"You know, there's a point at which you need to listen to your own words
and realize that you've moved on from healthy suspicion to just plain
stubborn paranoia and denial of reality," Quentin replies in rather dry
tones, leaning back with a gesture through the air and pointing out in dry
tones, "If it was make-up, it'd be fake. If we were putting drugs in your
food, we wouldn't be able to see the same thing you were seeing, would
we?"

Salem returns with Rhiannon in tow. "...in denial," he's saying to the
kinswoman, frowning. "I was hoping to wait until the moon was fatter,
but..." He closes the door behind them and turns an eye to the two cubs.

Rhiannon follows behind Salem, carrying a white plastic take-out bag that
bears the ubiquitous stamp of coming from an Asian restaurant of some
fashion. Thai, if the name on the bag is to be believed (Tup Tim Thai).
She's also got a 20oz. bottle of Dr. Pepper with her, and has apparently
come from work, with her badge still in plain view and her gun holsters
just visible inside her jacket. "Well, give her some credit, she's at that
age where all can be reasoned through drugs or movie-magic."

Cassiel shrugs, "How do I know all of you aren't on the same things? Or
that this is all some acid-induced nightmare?" The opening door makes her
stop any further rant she may have had. "More people?" she asks in
disbelief, spinning around in place to get a good look at everyone now. "I
really don't like the way this is going."

Quentin's eyes roll in his head at the protests, and he looks over towards
the door as Salem and Rhiannon make their re-appearance. "Hopeless," he
reports, dryly, "Hopeless. Girl's got no imagination at all. Kinda sad,
really."

"That's why I think it's time she had some more... first-hand experience,
if you see what I mean," Salem replies to Rhiannon. "Quentin, why don't
you take her arms again. Rhiannon, would you like to do the honors? You're
a better shot than I am, I imagine."

Rhiannon raises an eyebrow at Salem, and nods. "Sure, why not." She sets
down her dinner-on-the-go and looks Cassiel over while pulling out an old
but well-kept Colt. Out of an inner jacket pocket she produces a silencer,
and begins screwing it into the barrel. "Most don't like it the first
time, lobita. But that's our lot in life." Her tone isn't reassuring, and
neither is the manner in which she comfortably holds the gun.

"Start with the knees," Salem says coolly. He folds his arms across his
chest.

Cassiel raises her hands. "Woah...better shot? I don't think we need to
resort to shooting me! It's bad enough my kidneys were used as punching
bags, do we have to go and put bullets into my body?" She starts to back
up, but there's not really anywhere for her to go. "My...KNEES?" she
yells. "Fine, fine! If I say I believe you, will you put the freaking gun
down already?!"

Oh good. Quentin, still settled on the mattress behind her, has a much
easier time reaching out to grab hold of her upper arms as she raises her
hands and starts to back up.. assuming she doesn't jump off the mattress
or anything before he can grab her. He doesn't say anything to comfort
her, although his expression reveals he's not too happy about this.

"Sorry about this," Rhiannon says, her tone sincerely apologetic. Without
hesitation she takes the gun in a double-handed grip and shoots unerringly
at Cassiel's left knee, a single round. The Colt's report is more of a
loud pop in the enclosed room, although still a little loud.

Salem tenses himself, arms unfolding and falling to his sides. He watches
Cassiel's face intently as the girl's knee catches the bullet.

The door cracks open as the gun goes off, then promptly slams closed.

Cassiel finds herself backed up against Quentin, and restrained. This is
not going well for her. Not at all. "Are you sure we can't ta--" Her
begging's cut off by a wonderful visitor to her kneecap, that happily
burrows through cloth and skin to make a nice home in the flesh
underneath. She instantly goes pale, torn between the burning pain in her
leg and the shock that yes, that woman did in fact shoot her. She's too
surprised to even scream. All she can do is stare down at her bleeding
knee with this wide-eyed look on her face. "I...I..."

"The other knee, if you would, Rhiannon." Salem's voice is ice-cold,
without emotion, without feeling. "Then do as you will. If this doesn't
work," he adds, off-handedly, "we'll start breaking her fingers."

"I think you're gonna need to shoot her again, Rhi," Quentin offers in
rather quiet tones, made deep and husky by the shift to glabro as he
restrains Cassiel's arms with a fierce grip, fingers digging slightly into
the muscle there. He still doesn't look happy, especially as the scent of
blood hits him.. nostrils flaring briefly, a disgusted look on his face as
he turns his head away.

Rhiannon looks at Cassiels and makes a small 'hmph' of surprise.
"Impressive, lobita." Then as requested she shifts her aim just so and
shoots again, this time for the right knee. Her aim remains true, and the
sound of the silenced handgun ricochets off the room's walls again.

Daisy opens the door again as no bullets are sent into it or her and she
hears Salem's cool voice on the opposite side. "Hello," she says as she
enters, as if gunfire and shot people were as much cause for alarm as
microwaving a frozen burrito.

Salem glances over and nods absently to Daisy before turning his attention
back on Cassiel's 'initiation'.

The next bullet isn't taken so lightly by Cassiel. In fact, she lets out a
scream that's probably been building up for the last few minutes now, and
struggles against Quentin's hold on her. "You fucks!" she yells, when
she's not crying out in pain. "You fucking shot me! I can't believe you
-shot- me! Oh -god-, that hurts!" Her weight's pretty much being held up
by Quentin now, since she can't really put any weight on her legs without
causing more pain to herself. "I can't believe this..." A few tears start
to trickle down her face, and her breathing is now quick, pantlike gasps.
Her body's beginning to rapidly tense up, and unknown to her the hair on
her arms isn't as thin and whispy like it usually is. It's getting
thicker.

The sound of the door shutting surprises Rhiannon, but she only flinches
and looks over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes in annoyance at the two
cliaths. She doesn't recognize Daisy, but Salem's lack of action reassures
her enough to put the Kinswoman's attention back to Cassiel. "Had enough?"
she asks the girl calmly.

Quentin's hands slide more fully over Cassiel's arms, as he hooks his own
arms around them to draw them back and clasps his fingers beneath her
shoulder-blades. It'll support her, and stop her from breaking out of his
rather strong grip as well, although if she does actually shift he's
probably going to get thrown across the room. C'est la vie.

"I don't think she has," Salem answers Rhiannon, his eyes still on Cass.
"One or two more should do it." He doesn't appear to be taking any
pleasure in the girl's pain and fear, but neither does he seem to give a
damn about it, either.

Daisy, potential savior, apparently isn't. She leans back against the door
and crosses her arms. "No change yet?" she inquires of Salem in halting
English.

Rhiannon raises the gun a little more. "Listen to your Rage, lobita." With
that cryptic bit of advice, she fires again, aims, and fires a second
time--these bullets lands above the previous two, on Cassiel's upper legs.

Cassiel's eyes are narrowed in pain and their fair share of pissed
off-ness. All she can feel is the fire rushing through her legs as more
blood splatters onto the floor, mixing with the growing puddle beneath
her, and the only thing she can even begin to focus in on right now is
Rhiannon and the gun in the woman's hands. "I swear, when I get my hands
on you, I'm gonna--!" she spits out, panting for air that she can't seem
to get enough of. The muscles in her back knot up then start to twitch,
and soon the rest of her body follows suit. Quentin would notice a
distinct change in the way she feels moments before she, well, explodes,
sending fabric bits raining down upon the area around her. In the small
girl's place is now an irate Crinos, snarling and trying her damnest to
get to Rhi. Frothy bits of drool fly out of her muzzle and cling to the
fur on her throat. She's not happy at all.

Oh yeah. That fourth bullet must have done it. Quentin releases his grip
the moment he feels her begin to shift, to prevent having both arms broken
by the sudden eruption into the war-form, letting his own anger at the
necessity of this violence against the girl flow like fire in his veins to
draw himself up into his own blue-maned crinos shape in a rush of movement
that, more than likely, breaks the mattress that they're both on. The poor
mattress. Taking advantage of Cassiel's hampered movement, given that she
probably hasn't healed the damage to her legs just yet, he lashes out with
one huge paw with the full intention of introducing the other cub's head
to the concrete wall.

Daisy pushes forward slightly in case she's needed for additional
restraining of the enraged cub. Not likely by her somewhat lax attitude.

Cassiel's threat is all the warning Rhiannon needs, and with the Rage
running high in room she immediately falls back a handful of steps behind
Salem. Despite whatever protection the other three Garou might offer, the
Colt remains raised and ready for use.

Rusty-Hued Wolf lets out a snarl, jaws opening as she readies herself to
bite into whatever's closest to her. She doesn't get that chance because,
combined with both the fact her legs are still not up to par, and that
Quentin's just tripped her, she goes falling into the wall with a sound
'THWUNK'. The somewhat dazed Crinos stumbles back before falling to the
ground in a heap of fur and stringy spittle.

Daisy gives a simple and silent nod of approval.

~Good-night, Gracie~ The Q-Crinos simply stands there for a long moment
over the other cub once she's collapsed to the concrete floor of the
storeroom, muscle drawn tight and tense beneath fur black, white, and blue
as he waits to make sure she's not still a threat. Or, more specifically,
waits to see if she changes back -- or if he's going to have to hit her in
the head again.

"Denial, meet Reality," Rhiannon announces softly as she straightens up
and lowersher handgun. She nods her thanks to Quentin, then glances at her
dinner, guaging if it's safe enough to start eating.

Rusty-Hued Wolf just lays there on the floor, not quite capable of
focusing in on much of anything right now. In fact, if someone was to get
close enough, they'd notice her eyes have crossed and she's whimpering
softly.

Quentin leans over her, nostrils flaring slightly as he catches the other
cub's scent and gazes down at her with a prick of his ears to catch the
sound of her whimpering. Aware that the kinfolk doesn't know the Mother's
Tongue, he flickers a look of greengold eyes back over to the others
gathered with an openly questioning look, one hand forming into a fist and
the other pointing down at Cassiel.

Daisy offers a suggestion at this point in stilted and broken English.
"Maybe off her now? Get air. Calm."

Rhiannon nods in agreement with Daisy, and heads over to her dinner. She
takes a cross-legged seat on the floor and sets the Colt down but within
easy reach, then opens her soda. She continues watching the two cubs,
waiting for confirmation Cassiel isn't going to leap into action.

Rusty-Hued Wolf twitches for a moment, her eyes closing then snapping back
open. And hey, they actually focus this time! She tries to push herself
into a sitting position, but only manages to get halfway before thudding
back down to the floor.

Daisy takes a stab at being a voice of reason. "You Garou," she says in
her Tarzan-speak. "Look." She points at the downed cub. "See. Touch.
Know."

A light nudge of Quentin's foot nestles briefly against the rusty-furred
crinos's back, as though to try and rouse her, before he takes a slow step
back and crouches down to a more comfortable position.. the heavy tail
behind him swishing once through the air. He remains ready, however, if
she decides to flip out and lunge for someone again.

Rusty-Hued Wolf growls softly and rubs at her forehead, then pauses as she
realizes that her hand isn't exactly a normal hand. She stares at it for a
moment, then turns her head to the side and stares at Quentin. Back to her
hand. Her muzzle opens as if she was trying to speak, but the only thing
to come out is a weak growl. Nowhere near intimidating, in fact.

Rhiannon pulls up her thai dinner and fetches out disposable chopsticks
and a carton. She pops it open and digs in, the smell of ginger and spices
lingering. It's a dish of mostly vegetables, with the odd piece of
chicken.

Quentin's green-gold eyes meet Cassiel's own as she stares at him.. and as
she begins to come around to her senses, however slowly, he lets himself
bleed easily back into the form of his birth. The thick coat of fur
sliding way beneath the clothes that emerge once more, his blue hair
tossed with a cast of his head as he returns to his usual appearance and
offers her a rather crooked grin. "Some make-up guy we have, I guess, eh?
Just.. focus on what you usually look like, picture it in your mind and
/feel/ it.. and you'll shift back." Hopefully.

Rusty-Hued Wolf manages a weak snarl towards Quentin as she finally sits
up, still somewhat woozy from her encounter with the wall. Frowning as
much as she can with a mouthful of fangs, the cub rubs the back of her
neck, her eyes closing as she tries to concentrate on how she normally
looks. It takes a few moments, but she eventually manages to get the hang
of it, and bam! She's back to her human form, sans clothes of course. Once
that little fact sinks in she lets out a shriek and practially zips into
the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Salem, meanwhile, has lit himself one of the hand-rolled cigarettes from
the black case he keeps inside his coat. As calm as you please -- and
underneath the hard coldness of his face, he _is_ pleased -- he observes
the scene, watching Cassiel with fierce eyes.

Rhiannon coughs a little at the girl's obvious modesty. "That wasn't
particularly thoughtful of you, Quentin," she admonishes, although there's
little censure in her tone. She looks about the room from her spot on the
floor. "She have anything to change in to?"

Daisy watches the naked girl rush off to the bathroom. "Need teach to use
bathroom, too."

"I brought her clothes, some of them anyway, the first night she was
taken," Salem says, tapping ash into the hard concrete floor.

Cassiel remains in the bathroom, and her vague yelling can easily be heard
coming from inside.

Rhiannon glances at the bathroom door, then Salem. "Are those clothes in
there, or does someone get to take them to her?"

"At least she figured out how to shift back," Quentin observes in rather
dry tones, craning his neck to look after the girl and musing quietly,
"Nice ass, too." That said, he looks over to Daisy with a curious
expression and asks, "I don't think we've met.."

Salem's eyebrows rise at the sound, and he shakes his head slightly. He
glances around, his gaze falling on the suitcase he took from Cassiel's
apartment. "I don't think so." He looks at Rhiannon, mouth twisting into a
somewhat wry expression. "Perhaps you should bring them to her. No need to
cause her more embarrassment than necessary."

Rhiannon grunts. "Sure she won't see me and take a chance for revenge?
Might be better for her." She jerks her head in Daisy's general direction.
"I'm guessing she can absorb any lashing out."

It doesn't seem like Cassiel's voluntarily emerging anytime soon, but at
least the yelling has stopped.

Salem grunts. "Good point." His eye turns to the lupus. "Daisy?"

Daisy offers an introduction to Quentin now that the shooting and yelling
has died down. Unlike her normal broken speech, the introduction is
smoothly practiced and flows. "I am Daisy, Cat-Killer, Cliath Theurge of
the Glass Walkers of the Sept of the Hidden Walk." A hand automatically
moves out to shake the young man's hand. She adds in a more broken and
unpracticed tone, "Was elder from past." A claim that might be a bit hard
to swallow coming from someone who looks about 14 and normally speaks like
she's taken one too many blunt objects to the head.

Quentin's chin raises in a slight nod back to the girl, although there's
curiousity in his eyes about the whole 'elder' part. Or maybe it's
regarding the fact that she doesn't seem to know english. After making a
note to buy her a 'Hooked on Phonics' tape, he offers his own introduction
in amiable tones, "Quentin Michaels, Galliard cub of the Glass Walkers..
good to meet you." He reaches out to clasp the offered hand in a warm
grasp, then releases it before adding dryly, "/Someone/ should bring her
clothes at least."

Rhiannon takes another bite from her dinner. "Don't look at me, I already
did my part," she mumbles around the ginger chicken.

Daisy adds, after the handshake, a too wide smile that's just not formed
quite right and ends up being a bit unnerving. "Cubs good," she states
factually. She looks over to Rhiannon expectantly.

Cassiel opens the door just a crack and looks out. Seeing that the others
haven't left yet, the door is slammed shut again.

Salem glances ceilingward, then sets the cigarette between his lips and
stalks over toward the suitcase. He grabs out a pair of sweatpants and a
hooded sweatshirt and heads toward the closed bathroom door.

Rhiannon gives Daisy a nod of hello. "Rhiannon MacKenzie. Walker Kinfolk.
I'm from LA originally." She then chases her dinner with a swig from the
Dr. Pepper bottle. Cassiel's quick survey of the room elicits a sigh from
her, but she watches Salem's fetching of the clothes with interest.

Quentin quirks one brow slightly, regarding Daisy with a rather curious
expression before easing himself back down on the now-ruined bed and
reaching over to see if any of the pizza has survived. Fortunately, he
has, and he scavenges a slice for himself.

Cassiel is blissfully unaware to the approaching Salem. She's too busy
looking for a way out of the bathroom that doesn't involve running nude by
those people again.

Salem reaches the bathroom door and raps on it commandingly, with force.
"Cass. I'm going to open the door and hand some clothes through it to you.
You will put them on, and then come out to join us. Clear?" He turns the
knob without waiting for a response.

Daisy follows Quenton over to the mattress, passes on the pizza, and rubs
at her eyes with her hands as she yawns widely.

Cassiel is about to reply, but she didn't expect the door to open so
suddenly. Shrieking, she flails at Salem when/if he tries to enter, then
attempts to snatch the clothes and shut the door again. "Fine! Just...go
away until I -change-!"

Rhiannon hides a smile behind her dinner and continues with a second
carton, this one containing rice in peanut sauce.

Salem doesn't actually enter the bathroom; he merely opens the door wide
enough to toss the sweatsuit into the bathroom. Then he shuts with with a
bang and stalks back to rejoin the others. "Fucking hysterics," he mutters
around the cigarette.

As a few bites of pizza are devoured, Quentin raises his head to look over
and inquire dryly towards Salem, "..thank you, by the way, for just
breaking my fingers. It sounded more painful this way."

"At least she'll just hate me now, and not someone she's supposed to learn
from," Rhiannon adds.

Salem grunts. "Have you taken a bullet yet, Quentin?" he asks in reply.
Then he shakes his head at Rhiannon. "She hates me, to be certain. Still,
I imagine that she'll get over it."

Cassiel can be heard talking to herself, but what exactly's being said is
too low to make out. A little bit after Salem gives her the clothes she
finally emerges from the bathroom, avoiding everyone's gaze as she sets
about hunting down the missing reptile from earlier.

Quentin's response to that is muffled against pizza, as the cub takes
another bite of it.. eying the door as it opens, he takes a swallow and
raises his head to ask over dryly, "So.. you think you can accept the
whole 'werewolf' thing yet?"

Salem almost smiles at Quentin's ambiguous response. Almost. It's a
somewhat worrying expression.

Rhiannon smiles at Quentin slyly, then as the bathroom door opens she
looks over at Cassiel and watches the girl for signs of further hysteria.
When none are immediately apparent, she sets aside her dinner and sets to
removing the silencer from the now-cooled handgun and stows both items
back inside her jacket.

Daisy begins edging along the mattress in the direction that goes away
from Quentin.

Cassiel doesn't answer Quentin. She's a little busy dragging the iguana
out from his hiding spot, both of her hands wrapped tightly around the
flailing animal's midsection. "So are you guys all pleased with the fact
you can shoot a random person without feeling any remorse? If so, I'm
excruciatingly happy for you," she murmurs.

Quentin, doing his best to avoid looking at the people eying him as though
he was the next victim to be shot, nods over towards the girl and points
out the obvious. "I don't see any bulletholes. Do you?" Well, there is the
blood all over the pizza box.

"You look remarkably hale, yes," Salem agrees coolly, his gaze going back
to Cassiel. "It's a gift of your wolf blood. Or are you still denying that
you're one of us?"

Rhiannon doesn't echo the previous comments, but does nod in agreement.
She's just about done with her dinner at this point, the second carton
close to empty.

Cassiel glances down at her knees, and her eyebrows lift slowly. Keeping
one hand on the iguana's back to stop him from running, the other one
gently touches her legs to reassure her that yes, there are no wounds and
no, she isn't imagining things. "O...kay. That's just freaky."

Salem takes a long drag on his cigarette. "Bullets can't kill you. Knives
can't stop you. The only thing you have to fear is fire, silver, and the
attacks of supernatural creatures such as yourself. Perhaps a high-powered
explosion as well. Perhaps."

Quentin's lips quirk in a faint smirk, the last of the salvaged
pizza-slice cradled in his hand as he watches the girl realize that she's
not on the ground with her knees shattered from bullet-fire. "You're not
faster than a speeding bullet, though," he points out dryly, "Nor are you
more powerful than a locomotive. We're not exactly all-powerful. A fair
sight better than your average schmuck, though."

"Speaking as one of those average schmucks, I concur," Rhiannon says in a
wry voice from her spot on the floor. She stands up, stretching stiff
muscles, and downs the last of her Dr. Pepper.

Cassiel hefts the now calm iguana up onto her shoulders. "So I'm like a
superhero out of the comics, and you guys are here to make me choose good
or evil?" she questions, still keeping from looking at the others. "And I
get the feeling that if I denounce all of this, then I'm not leaving this
building alive."

Daisy looks, quietly, amused at the ongoings.

Salem makes a 'hmm' noise, watching the girl. "You have no choice,
unfortunately. The world has become a good deal more complicated for you,
but more simple as well, in a way. Good and evil are tangible forces... or
rather, the endless cycle of life and the downward spiral of unending
corruption." He takes another inhale of cigarette smoke and lets it out,
slowly. "You've been chosen. You're one of Gaia's own. And no, we won't
allow you to turn away from what you were born to do."

Quentin casts over a ruefully apologetic look towards Rhiannon, offering
over wryly, "There's nothing average about you, Rhi." A look is slanted
back to Cassiel then, and he adds onto Salem's words by way of translation
into layman's terms, "We protect the earth from monsters, evil spirits,
and polluting assholes, and we're all nature-worshippy. Thing is, we
actually get to deal directly /with/ the nature spirits, so that's one up
on the other religions you'll find around."

Rhiannon grins at Salem. "She's quick on the uptake, at least." She looks
around the room a moment, eyes resting on Cassiel before she says, "I
should probably get going. It's been a long day and tomorrow's not going
to be any shorter."

Cassiel lets out a quiet sigh. "All right, fine. Not like I have much else
to do in this city besides try to get into college. I guess I can prance
around, howl at the moon, and scare helpless villagers on the weekends.
Oh, wait, don't tell me. We also work for Greenpeace and tomorrow, you're
all taking me on a trip to chain ourselves to a whaling boat in hopes of
saving a few. Am I right?" She finally dares to look up, but the only
goodbye Rhi gets is a frosty stare from the girl.

Salem's lips thin. "So far, you haven't said anything that a thousand
other cubs haven't said before you. No, we don't work for Greenpeace. Our
methods are far more... direct." Cigarette ash filters down onto the
floor. "But we can save further lessons for another night."

The sarcastic comments from Cassiel earn her a cool, almost amused look
from Rhiannon. As she bends down to gather up the remains of her dinner,
she asks Salem in a low voice, "You keeping her here?"

"She's more sarcastic than I am," Quentin muses aloud, pushing himself up
to his feet and brushing one hand back through his hair, "I have rivalry.
That's not right."

Salem glances sidelong at Rhiannon. "If you know a better place, suggest
it." His tone is mild. "Someplace... secure." He glances back at Cassiel;
one might suspect that he doesn't trust the girl yet. Amazing.

Cassiel actually smiles at Quentin, but it's gone just as quickly as it
appeared. "Lessons. And me without my palm pilot to take notes on. Does
this mean I get detention?" she asks Salem in as serious a tone as she can
muster up.

Rhiannon bites on her lip for a moment, and shakes her head. "Aside from
the Farmhouse--which doesn't generally bring the word 'secure' to
mind--this is probably just as good. Rina's place isn't really an option,
and neither is yours..." He voice trails off, and she smirks at Quentin.
"Competition will keep you on your toes."

Salem mutters, "I'd put her in the bunker, but the place is locked tight.
Gaia only knows what John did with the key..." He just shakes his head
slightly at Cassiel, unamused.

Quentin's lips quirk in a slight grin back over towards the other cub, as
he notices her smile. A thoughtful glance flickers over in the elder's
direction, and he says to Cassiel's words, "You're on detention 'till you
graduate. I'm probably going to be doing a lot of your teaching.. some of
it, anyway."

Daisy offers to those present, "I sleep here. Watch her. Tonight."

Rhiannon gives Daisy a look that has, "Thanks" written all over it, then
heads for the door. "That sounds good to me, for right now. Quentin, you
coming with?"

Cassiel pffts and rolls her eyes at the other cub. "You're nowhere near as
intimidating as Salem and miss trigger finger over there," she comments,
before nodding to Daisy. "I actually like her. She can stay. As long as
she doesn't go after 'zilla again."

Salem nods to the lupus, acknowledging the offer. "Good."

"I don't need to be intimidating," Quentin observes in amused tones,
nodding over to Rhiannon even as he moves to the door, "I've got them to
do it for me."

Rhiannon smiles a little at the thought of being compared with Salem in
terms of intimidation, and opens the door. "Night, everyone." She fetches
out her car keys, and waits for Quentin to join her on the way to the
truck.

Daisy raises a hand and waves to the departing Walkers, looking pretty
exhausted herself and nearing the need for sleep.

"Sleep well," Salem says to the two female Walkers, cliath and cub. He
follows Rhiannon and Quentin out, cigarette dangling from the side of his
mouth. The door closes firmly behind him.

Moments later, there are the sounds of locks being locked and the bolt
sliding home.