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It is currently 12:15 Pacific Time on Mon May 26 2003.
Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent Moon phase (30% full).
Whispering Pines - Rhiannon's Apt.
Rhiannon appears to follow the tenet of 'order in chaos', as the apartment is a complete and total mess, save for a few small corners of sanity. The doorway opens to the living room, which is large and bright, with a balcony and sliding glass doors on the left and a dining nook at the far left corner. To the right of the living room is a short hall that allows access to the bedrooms and bathrooms, and the kitchen is located across the living room and to the right, with a bar allowing a view from the dining nook into the kitchen. The apartment is still sparsely furished, with only the basics covered: a low coffee table is covered with magazines and papers, mostly catalogues from the looks of it, ranging from Coldwater Creek to an NRA publication or two. Blankets and pillows litter the wide, plaid couch, and the entertainment center has a mess of VHS tapes and DVDs in front of it rather than stacked neatly in the available shelving. Although the TV and VCR appear to be garden variety, the stereo system and DVD player are anything but. Several different company logos are apparent between the large speaker system and accompanying components, the main speakers being almost 4' tall and flanking the entertainment system. Reiterating a love of all things audio is the pair of CD cabinets on the opposite wall, both holding a huge selection of CDs. Unlike the movies on the floor, not a single CD is out of place, and a closer look reveals they are all alphabetized--several hundred, if the height and width of the cases are any indication. The apartment walls are barren except for a few family and friend photos.
Knock, knock-knock-knock.
A knocking? Quentin walks along to the door, looks out the peep-hole and then pulls it open. The apartment is.. scarce, now, most of the electronics gone, the decorations gone, a couple shallowly-filled cardboard boxes sitting about.
Salem stands there in the usual somber attire and dark glasses, his expression amiable enough but otherwise unreadable. "Afternoon. Mind if I come in?"
Quentin takes a slight half-step back, a brow quirking in surprise before he invites with a shrug, "Sure, c'mon in. You get my message?"
Salem enters, taking off the sunglasses as he does so and slipping them inside his coat. "About the Fangs? Yes, I did. Good job."
Quentin closes the door behind his elder, chuckling faintly, "I was kind of jealous. I've /always/ wanted to slug Valoran."
Salem's mouth twitches into a half-smile. "An understandable reaction." The smile fades as he takes in the decimated apartment and then turns back to the young Galliard. "I have," he says, "a project for you. It's optional, but I think it's something you'd enjoy getting involved in. Something... interesting."
Quentin turns back towards Salem once the door's locked, and then pauses with a slight blink, seeming startled. "Really? Well, sure, I mean, aside from what little stuff I've got going on, I'm pretty much free.. what is it?"
"Do you remember the message I passed along about the vampire I didn't want killed?" Salem raises an eyebrow. "Name of Orion?"
"Yep," Quentin allows with a slight bob of his head, "I remember."
Salem nods, hands slipping into his coat pockets. "He's agreed to give us information as part of being allowed to exist unmolested in this city. He has, in fact, offered to give lessons on what he, as a vampire, can and cannot do. I've given it some thought as to who I want in this first class, and I'd like you to consider taking advantage of this rather, mm, unique opportunity."
Quentin's brows arch slightly at that, in mild surprise. "He did? Well, I mean, sure.. not like a chance like this comes along that often.." A pause, "You're sure he's not just doing this to get a solid ID on a bunch of werewolves?"
Salem smiles thinly. "I'd thought of that, which is why I'm not having everyone and their packmate sign up. In fact, at first it'll probably be just you and K. C., with myself in attendence to keep an eye on things and make sure Mr. Orion doesn't try anything foolish."
Quentin's head tips in a slight nod, allowing with a chuckle, "Well, I'm willing to listen to what he's had to say.. never actually seen a live vampire, myself. Just that dead one that tried to jump Lyra."
The Elder's smile widens a notch, and he nods in approval. "Excellent." Then he cocks his head, one eyebrow rising. "How's your _other_ project going?"
"It's going," Quentin says dryly, shaking his head, "Everyone I ask says the same thing.. they don't remember anything that could help."
Salem's brow furrows, mouth thinning into a slight frown. "Mm." He glances around, then takes a perch on one arm of the still-remaining couch. "Do you have _anything_ on what happened after he came to town?"
Quentin's shoulders roll in a slight shrug, leaning back against the wall and folding both arms over his chest. "Not really. I know vaguely 'he worked to draw the tribe together' and that's about it.. something about a glass bane, but nobody knows details.."
Salem grimaces. He rubs his chin. "Mm. Yes, I heard about that. It involved one of the cubs... Sophia, I think, and he ended up blinded by the thing. Alicia healed him." He thinks for a moment. "There was, also, his work in the sewers... unfortunately incomplete. Roger was involved with that, and Kaz... plus some other Gnawer that's now dead, and Yi I think."
Quentin tips his head slightly, "Yeah, well.. Alicia doesn't seem very forthcoming with details, although I'm still trying to drag some out of her. Kaz's gone.. I haven't been able to get a hold of Yi, though I asked someone to pass word to her that I wanted to talk to her.." A frown, "I've been hoping to find Daisy, too, maybe she knows something."
Salem grunts. "Daisy should. She's staying with Cassiel at the moment, though she might also be at the farmhouse."
Quentin purses his lips, "Where's Cassiel living?"
Salem thinks for a moment, then names an address not far from the college campus. "One moment, let me get you her number." He reaches into his coat and takes out a small, cheap notepad.
Quentin nods to that a bit, "Cool, thanks.."
Salem scribbles down Cassiel's telephone number and hands it over. "As I said, she might also be over at the farmhouse." Putting the notepad away, he folds his arms and thinks again. "What else. Synthesis was his idea and largely his doing. I doubt the pack would have been formed without his prodding. And there's what _you_ remember about him, too." The halfmoon lofts an eyebrow.
Quentin reaches out to accept the paper, glancing at it before folding it up to tuck away in a pocket. "Yeah, well, I never saw much of what he actually /did/ while I was around.." A shake of his head, "I have a list of his mortal contacts, but I doubt I could get a bunch of mobsters to talk about this assassin they used to hire.."
Salem snorts. "No. But you're composing a tale of him for _us_. For the Garou Nation." He cocks his head slightly, regarding the cub. "You don't need to have every single detail about everything that he did. The tale doesn't have to be a grand epic. It _should_ mention the things he did that we should honor him for. Things like organizing a tribe from nothing, taking charge in the city and being active in the war. The sewers, the hospital, the glass bane... it was John who made the safehouse blow, rather than leave behind evidence that would rend the Veil, and he made sure that he was the last out and that not _everything_ in the safehouse would be lost. He did, in fact, open the safehouse up to most of the Sept when the caern fell." He shakes his head a bit. "Don't make the task harder than it is. You can complete it successfully, of that I have no doubt."
"Right," Quentin allows with a tip of his head towards Salem, one hand splaying to one side, "But I can't find anyone who was in the sewers, I need to tie down Alicia and drag details about the glass bane from her.. I don't know -anything- about the hospital aside from Rina telling me it was one of his priorities.. so I've got aways to work on that." A pause, and he admits, "Just knowing what little I do, though.. he was an amazing person. Just to do this, after what happened where he came from.. most people'd be liable to tell the tribe to go fuck itself."
Salem nods. "He was." The Walker shifts his weight and takes out his pocketwatch, glancing at it with a frown. "Mm." He puts it away and straightens up. "All right. The hospital, I know something about, but I've got an appointment to keep. Come over to my place for dinner sometime and I'll tell you what I remember." He smiles crookedly. "And I'll give Alicia a kick in the ass for you, all right?"
Quentin chuckles faintly, "Eh, I'll just keep going over and bothering her 'till she spills her guts.. she's a galliard, shouldn't be -this- hard to get her to talk. I'll stop by sometime, I'll call first.." A nod towards the door, "Anyway, don't let me keep you.."
Salem nods. He starts for the door, then pauses. "Oh. I'm reminded." He turns back. "Where will you be living after this month? Any ideas?"
Quentin shakes his head a bit, "I was planning on crashing at the farmhouse for awhile while I try to figure something out.." A vaguely uncomfortable look across the apartment, "..I feel like a bum, really, I keep moving around."
Salem grunts. "I know the feeling." He takes out his sunglasses and slips them on. "Well, when we get the new safehouse purchased, you'll have someplace to stay permanently. I hear that Ebony might be setting up a media center, too." He gives the cub a faint, crooked smile.
Quentin offers a wry look back, "Well, that's cool. It'd be good to not have to /move/ every other month.."
Salem cocks his head. "Perhaps Lyra's aunt could give you a bed, in the meantime? It'd likely be more comfortable than being out in the middle of nowhere."
Quentin shakes his head slightly, "She could, but.. honestly, if I'm out at the farm I can at least try and dig up a few people who might've known John." Wry, "I have a few questions for Sepdet-rhya, too."
The Elder gives Quentin a thin smile. "Yes, grab her before she wanders off again." He heads for the door again saying as he leaves, "Dinner, my place. Soon. Don't forget."
"I won't," Quentin promises with a shake of his head, "Take care."
"Be seeing you," Salem says, and then departs.