"Andrea was almost universally loved, but she was the exception."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 12:05 Pacific Time on Wed Jul 9 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it's a sunny day. The temperature is 62 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the northeast at 3 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.14 and falling, and the relative humidity is 74 percent. The dewpoint is 54 degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing Gibbous Moon phase (68% full).

Nicholson Hall

The main room of the Hall is well furnished with beautiful ash floors. Wooden beams support the second floor, while giving the large home a rustic appeal. The room has been divided into two sections, with a clear pathway that leads into the kitchen. One half of the living room with contains sufficient lighting, comfortable arm chairs, and end tables. All of which are situated in front of living rooms main windows. Creating a perfect environment for reading, or simply watching the world go by. The remaining half of the room contains a couch, two plush chairs, and a coffee table in front of an expansive stone fireplace. A spiral staircase is tucked into one corner and leads up to the second floor.

Its a warm summer afternoon and Lianne has left the front door open, while the outer screen door remains closed and locked. Through the screen doorway, the kinswoman can be seen moving between the living room and kitchen.

Through the screen, she can hear the sound of Salem's car driving up, and the slam of the Yugo's driver-side door as he gets out. So the doorbell ringing a few moments later comes as no surprise. As he waits for the kinswoman to answer, Salem removes his sunglasses and puts them away inside his coat; he's wearing a white collared shirt instead of the usual black tee.

Lianne's cane clicks across the wooden floor, as she apraches the screen door and flicks back the lock. "Good day," she greets pleasently enough, as she nudges the door open. "Please, come inside."

Standing at 5'2, Lianne is a woman of small stature. Her face is unremarkable, pale and with the slightest hint of Asian ancestry. Her shoulder length black hair is tied back in a bun, keeping it out of the way. The woman's age (early to mid 40's) shows in her face, faint frown lines creasing her brow and crows feet next to her eyes. Her clothes are those of a wealthy woman, designer by the look of them and resemble a dark blue business suit more then anything else.

A dark wooden cane with a silver handgrip and base, is held in Lianne's left hand. She uses this cane to steady herself when she walks, as she suffers from a slight limp. Despite the limp and cane, Lianne's hazel eyes reflect a bone deep stubbornness and her posture is that of one who is used to getting their own way.

Salem inclines his head politely to the kinswoman and enters. "Thank you. You've been well, I hope?"

Lianne lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, as she turns her back on the Walker Elder. "As well as can be expected. Please, have a seat." The kinswoman indicates the living room with the tip of her cane. "Would you like something to drink?" She inquires, while moving into the kitchen.

"Please." Salem hangs up his coat, then takes a seat in one of the arm chairs.

Lianne returns from the kitchen a short time later, a tea tray held between both hands. While she manages to hold onto her cane, the kinswoman cannot use it and carry the tray at the same time. While she manages just fine, her limp is a little more pronounced without the aid of her cane. After setting the tray down on the coffee table, the kinswoman lays a sandwich and glass infrom the Salem. She fills the glass with orange juice, before serving herself and taking a seat. "Its been some time, since I checked in with Family," she comments, dryly.

Salem starts to get up when the kinswoman returns, to help her with the tray, and then aborts the gesture. Settling down again, he takes a sip from his glass and nods. "You've been missed. But after the incident last year with the safehouse..." He shrugs. "I suppose we all thought it best to allow you some space."

Lianne smoothes out the front of her clothes and crosses her legs, before leaning forward and claiming her own glass of juice. "Yes. Well, things were somewhat difficult after that event."

Salem remarks, dryly, "I can imagine. So... where to start?" Setting the glass down, he takes up his sandwich.

Lianne leans back in her chair, absently adjusting her cane to keep it from falling over. "Things have been relativly calm for me, since the FBI lost intrest in the Safe House explosion. I have been doing what I can to distance myself from the office and allowing some of those below me to have a little more responsibility."

Salem nods. "Good," he says, once his mouth is clear. "I have Leala working with one of the Silver Fangs on obtaining us a new headquarters." He allows himself a slight smile. "Overall, I think things are going well for us. Quentin's near to finishing his Rite, and the Elder of the Silver Fangs has good reason to be grateful to us. Also," he adds, "there is a chance that after the next Moot, the Sept will once again have a Glass Walker as its Alpha."

Lianne's eyebrows lift. "Really. May I ask what has happened to the current Alpha?"

"Went off to answer a call from her mother, a Warper," Salem says, somewhat ruefully. "Taking her entire pack with her. And another pack has retired to the woods... all of which left a critical gap in power."

Lianne ahhs, taking another sip from her juice. "I see. What an... unfortunate situation. You are planning to claim the position of Sept Elder, I presume?"

Salem nods. "None of the remaining Fostern are interested... and I will hopefully have that rank myself soon. That leaves Sepdet, a Strider who, well, simply isn't around, and Robert, who wishes to stay in the role of Warder."

"And you feel that you have enough support to claim the position?" Lianne asks neutrally, as she sets down her glass and picks up her own sandwich.

"Enough," Salem replies. He shrugs. "Andrea was almost universally loved, but she was the exception."

Lianne hmms and takes a small bite out of her sandwich. "I see. Well, I wish you luck."

Salem's expression turns wry. "Of course, as Robert pointed out, a Fostern Sept Alpha is likely to attract ambitious Adren and higher-ranked Garou like flies to honey. So my time in the position may end up being rather... short." He shrugs. "But the Sept needs a leader, so."

Lianne ahhs. "Yes, well, Garou politics are something that I don't involve myself in. Far too messy."

"Sometimes literally," the Elder quips.

Lianne takes another small bite out of her sandwich. "Yes and that is why I leave it to those who are more... robust."

Salem nods. He eats in silence for a moment, then asks, "How's K.C. working out? I heard that you're letting her practice at your firm."

"I haven't heard any complaints," Lianne responds.