Information from Ebony

[hazlogs]

It is currently 10:40 Pacific Time on Mon Jan 13 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 45
degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The
barometric pressure reading is 30.19 and falling, and the relative
humidity is 97 percent. The dewpoint is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees
Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (69% full).

Dark Wine and Roses - Used and Rare Books

This floor seems to consist of one huge room, covering the area of both
the cafe and the bookshop below. None of the walls can be seen; any area
of the wall not containing a window is covered with bookcases. Further
shelves divide the room into individual sections. Small signs hanging from
the ceiling serve to direct one to the general area of interest. The air
in the room seems slightly cool and dry, possibly climate control to help
preserve the books. Ceiling lamps hang from above, but the room here is
slightly darker than the floor below, since there are no white wall
surfaces to reflect light. Also, the windows are fairly small and narrow,
so damaging sunlight won't fade the books. Half of the room seems devoted
to used books, while the other half holds older, rare volumes. Various
chairs are scattered around the sections, allowing one to browse through a
book in comfort, and several reading stands are available to aid in
holding heavier books.

A spiral staircase leading down can be found close to one of the windows.
It's set about halfway down the length of the room, close to the north
wall.

Aiyana waves to Eb. "Hey, bro! Man, the whole crew here today or what?"
she muses, grinning as she puts one of her hands into her hoodie pocket.
"I just...wander. Sometimes go to the park, sometimes go to the church.
Drop by Lyra's every now and again. Nothin' special. And how do you know I
don't sneak in at night anyways? Look over your bed while you're asleep,
take pictures..." She gets a devious look on her face and chuckles lowly,
then looks around the room again.

Raphael remains comfortably curled into the corner of his large, plush
chair, leg curled half under him, while he reads his also notably large
old book. It and the chair make him look even smaller than he really is,
by comparison. He's also well into the tome, whatever it is, and currently
ignoring the chattering people around him in the room.

	God, he's thin. So painfully skinny, scarcely a hundred pounds on
his 5'4" frame, if that; all slim lines and delicate angles. His features
are finely drawn, high cheekbones and classically beautiful bone
structure; his dark eyes, dusted with golden-brown shadow and lined with
black kohl and mascara, are made large and luminous by his spareness and
the paleness of his skin. Feathery, true black hair, shining blue when the
light hits it, falls constantly across his face, curls down around his
ears, flirts with the nape of his neck. The overall effect is at once
disquietingly fragile and ethereally lovely.

	His black t-shirt hangs loosely, adorned with an apparently
hand-painted scene of Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire, done in
shades of grey. The paint is beginning to crackle and fade; the shirt is
apparently beloved and far from new. Beneath it, his white jeans fit
closely -- it's amazing he could find them small enough -- and, perhaps
predictably, disappear into battered black knee-high combat-style boots.
Black enamel coats his nails; it, too, is chipped. Overall, he wears a
rather expensive-looking ankle-length woolen coat, hanging open and
letting the breezes in. He appears to have no jewelry, no piercings, no
tattoos; no such adornment of any kind.

Ebony stifles a snort at Aiyana's comment, shaking his head. "Man, why'd
you want pictures of that ugly thin'?" he prompts the Gnawer, gesturing
towards Jeremy. "I don't think him bein' asleep makes it any nicer."

Jeremy huffs softly and slips his hand into Aiyana's, fingers winding
around each other. "Eb', do you want me to bring up -your- sleeping
habits?" He asks with a smirk, sliding his other arm around Aiyana's
waist.

Salem's boots are heavy on the stairs as the Walker climbs up to the
second floor. Not yet noticing the others -- definitely preoccupied today
-- he heads over toward the section marked 'History'.

Aiyana studies the lithe figure in the giant chair nearby for a moment,
then rolls her eyes at Ebony. "Hey, don't make me come over there. I've
seen you sleep too, and it ain't nothin' special. At least Jeremy keeps me
warm." She sticks out her tongue and moves closer to Jer, blissfully
unaware of the appraching Salem. You can almost hear the Jaws theme in the
background...

Ebony rolls his eyes, snickering quietly. "I need a lock fer my bedroom
door," he decides. "T'keep out threatenin' women with cameras." Salem,
however, he does notice, rather like a prey animal catching the first
scent of a nearby preditor. Ahem. "Uh...morning' Salem," he offers over,
rather more politely than he's been to everyone else.

Raphael glances up from his huge old book at the sound of feet on the
stairs, as usual, still curled into the corner of his chair, and this time
doesn't look down again right away. His eyes widen a touch, and he
apparently decides the tall man merits a bit more attention than most
people, since he watches him cross the floor, for once.

Jeremy blinks his eyes and lets go of Aiyana quickly, nearly wheeling
himself around and tumbling over. Salem is here? He peers around the
Gnawer over towards his tribal Elder.

Elan comes up into the used book area, one battered paperback already
clutched in one hand. He looks at the stacks uncertainly for a bit, then
to the sitting area. He ventures a slight smile when he sees people there,
people he's at least seen about, save a couple, so he moves over towards
them. He cuts eyes to the back of the Walker that came up before him,
frowns slightly, and continues on towards the rest.

Salem glances up sharply, a flat gaze settling on Ebony for a moment,
taking in the kinsman and those with him. A heartbeat later, he smiles
faintly; the expression doesn't touch his eyes at all. "Ebony. Ah. Good. I
was planning to stop by your place later today."

Aiyana blinks, and as soon as Eb mentions that name the cub starts to
tense up. It's not visible yet, thank goodness, but her eyes do narrow a
little before she returns to her earlier, more cheerful mood. "Relax," she
whispers back to Jeremy. "It's all good. Just chill, bro." As Elan
approaches the little group she nods to him in greeting, then glances back
towards Salem.

Ebony mmms. "You want we should go downstairs an' chat?" he offers towards
the Elder, already setting his book aside. "I've got all th' stuff with me
you wanted."

Jeremy was almost waiting for Salem to leap out of the shadows and go
'rarr'. Shifting some, he chuckles to himself, head shaking some.

Salem glances sidelong as Elan passes across his field of view, then turns
back to Ebony and nods. "That'll be fine." He turns and heads back for the
stairs, pausing only briefly to glance at Raphael, in passing.

Ebony rises and heads downstairs, giving the rest of the room some relief
from the 'jaws' effect. What a hero!

Aiyana looks back at the Walker kin, then ruffles his hair. "So what're
you doin' here? Just hangin' out?"

Raphael watches the exchange, book actually forgotten for the moment,
until the creak of the stairs heralds another visitor. He glances over
Elan as the Gnawer enters, but glances back to Salem as the Walker passes,
catching his gaze for a moment, mesmerized, and looking after him as he
passes until he finds Elan again, to finish that assessment he'd begun.

Dark Wine and Roses Bookshop

This is the new books area of the store. Shelves of books dominate the
room, with much of the floorspace being taken up by them. The walls are
white, with dark wooden beams spaced along them. The beams join along the
ceiling at ornamental moldings. The floor is made of golden-maple boards,
polished to a high gloss, and soft grey carpets are scattered across it.
The room is always brightly lit, either from the large windows letting in
sunlight during the day or the old-fashioned ceiling lamps during the
night. A cashier's station is set off to one side.

An archway on the west wall leads into the cafe area of the store, while a
spiral staircase in one corner goes up to the second floor. On the north
wall, a door labelled 'Manager' can be seen. To the east, there's another
door, this one with a small sign about readings on it, while the door
leading to the garden outside is to the south of the room, near the
cashier's station.

"Let's go out into the garden," Salem suggests, as they reach the first
floor. "Bit quieter there."

Ebony drifts out, as suggested, getting his cellphone out en-route.

Outside Dark Wine and Roses

The area immediately in front of the shop used to be a patio, if some of
the other stores on the block are any indication. Now, a path of red brick
leads up to the shop. To the west, a tall, thick evergreen hedge blocks
your view, but the ground to the east has been extensively landscaped. No
grass can be seen - it's all shrubs and flower beds, with a few small
gravel paths among them so that visitors can walk along them and look. The
path to the shop is lined with rosebushes; they're bare of blooms at the
moment, and have been pruned back for the winter.

The bookshop stands to the north, while the street lies to the south.

Salem slips the dark mirrorshades back on as he steps outside. He leads
the kinsman a little away from the store and speaks quietly,
conversationally. "So. What do you have for me?"

Ebony heads over after the Elder, pulling up a few text entries on his
cellphone. Thankfully, it's one of those ones that acts like a personal
assistant, as well as just a repository for phone-numbers. "Th' owner of
th' company, an' a list of other places they rent, 'cross th' state," he
murmurs. "An' some contact information. Think I might 'phone up, just
t'see what they say."

Salem's mouth thins slightly. "Shipping Express, you mean, or the company
that actually owns the warehouse?"

Ebony scrolls through whatever is on his cellphone. "Shippin' Express.
Figured the actual owners woulden't be involved, though...eh. I'll look up
on them too if y'want."

Salem pushes gloved hands into his coat pockets, frowning. "If you would.
For the sake of thoroughness, if nothing else." He purses his lips,
looking pensive. "Back to the renters, though. How many locations?"

"Fifteen," Ebony responds softly. "I'm workin' on gettin' the addresses
fer all of 'em. Th' owner, by the way, is someone called 'Stacy Graves'.
Th' company itself only works in Washin'ton."

Salem tilts his head, and Ebony finds himself partially reflected in the
dark lenses. "You said they were posing as a night-freight company?"

Ebony mmhmms. "That's right," he affirms. "Bulk goods. Sounds like a good
cover fer' shippin' things you might not want normal people t'see," he
adds, speculatorily.

Salem nods. "That it does." He rubs at his chin, looking thoughtful for a
moment, then says, "See what you can find on this Graves person." He
exhales a sharp breath, looking irritated. "And keep an eye out for anyone
you know who'd be interested in exposing Express's drug-running. Someone
reckless and nosy looking for a story. But don't tip them off yet. I'd
like to have the local branch shut down first."

Ebony snorts amusedly at that. "Where I work? Reckless an' nosy reporters
are a dime a dozen," he assures. "Is there anythin' else you want checked
out? I'm already tryin' ta get th' addresses of th' other warehouses." A
pause, and he adds, "D'you want th' phone number fer their official
'contact line'?"

Salem nods, reaching into his coat to remove a small black notebook and
pen. He scribbles down a few words -- his handwriting's thin, cramped, and
nigh-illegible, then says, "Go ahead."

Ebony rattles off the number, then the supposed address for sending mail
to, as well, before locking and pocketing his cellphone once more.

Salem jots down both pieces of information and repockets the notepad. Then
he gives the kinsman another smile, faint but apparantly more genuine. "I
appreciate the help, by the way. Thank you."

Ebony shrugs loosely, seeming a touch surprised at the praise. "No prob'
bro'," he offers in return, the platitude tacked on unconciously. "Lemme
know if you need 'owt else?" he adds, at least /trying/ to sound friendly.

The smile lingers, amazingly enough. "I will. And I won't keep you from
the others any longer. I have to go see if Renee's in, and make sure she's
fully updated."

Ebony nods a bit, looking towards the building. "Yeah. A'aight, Salem.
Seey'round," he adds, before beginning to head into the bookshop once
more.

"Be seeing you," the Garou replies, then turns away and heads for the
street.