hazlogs | "Why do you want to be Judged so badly, Lyra?"

It is currently 20:13 Pacific Time on Wed Aug 13 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it's a sunny day. The temperature is 79 degrees Fahrenheit (26 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.10 and steady, and the relative humidity is 36 percent. The dewpoint is 50 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (92% full).

Salem and Mel's Apartment

The small, two-bedroom apartment has a warm, cozy look. The thrift-store furniture's been chosen for its quality and comfort, and the new place actually looks an improvement over the old. There are a few less cockroaches, but still no traps or use of sprays.

There's a hesitant tap at the door.

Salem answers it after a few moments, dressed in sweats and t-shirt. The apartment behind him is dimly lit, and something bluesy-saxophone plays on the stereo. It's full moon, and he's at home thinking calm thoughts, it seems.

Calm is anything but the Gnawer halfmoon. It looks like she's chewed all her nails down, and she's holding an old stuffed clown in her hands. "H-hi, Salem-rhya," Lyra mumbles, staring up at the Walker like a frightened deer. "I hope I'm not disturbing you..."

Salem frowns, brow furrowed and mouth thinned. He shakes his head. "Of course not, Lyra. Come in." He steps aside to let her enter, flicking on the light as he does so. "Have a seat."

She sits on the floor, the same way she always did when she was a cub. "Did Miss Mel get the brownies I left?" Lyra asks meekly, holding the clown close to her stomach. "It was awhile ago."

Salem smiles faintly as he closes the door behind her. "Yes, and she was quite appreciative, too." He prowls barefoot back to the couch and takes a seat, legs stretched out in front of him. "But you didn't come here to ask after brownies." He arches an eyebrow at the younger halfmoon.

Lyra nods, hair falling out of the makeshift tie and into her face. "No, I didn't, I mean I just came to see...how things are." She looks miserable as she says that, hazel eyes blinking up at the Walker. "Pip hasn't come to see me, and Alicia says he's not home. I s'pose I'm not to see him."

"Quentin's on a visiting tour of some other Septs," Salem says, arms folded across his chest. "City ones, mostly. L.A. and suchlike."

The girl nods, staring down at the clown and absently brushing the face of the doll. "Then...then he won't be back for some time."

Salem shakes his head, his gaze intent on her. "Probably not, no."

Lyra nods again. "Then I want to be brought before the Sept, and Judged."

Salem tilts his head to the side, eyeballing the girl. "For?"

"For what do you think?" Lyra counters, closing her eyes. "For breaking the Litany."

"The first law, you mean?" Salem asks, his voice calm and even.

She smiles, ducking her head and gazing down at the clown fondly. "I wasn't aware I'd broken any others," the Gnawer murmurs, sounding genuinely amused.

Salem leans back on the couch. He's not smiling now, and the full moon gives his thoughtful expression a rather hard cast to it. "Did you have sex with him, Lyra?"

The smile gets a pained tinge to it. "Yes," she whispers.

Salem exhales a quiet breath and then passes a hand across his face. "You realize that you being judged for this will drag Quentin into it as well, and he'll also be judged?"

Lyra looks up, biting her lower lip. "It can't be done without getting him involved?"

Salem snorts. "You can't be a charach by yourself, Lyra. The Sept will want to know who you broke the Litany with."

She looks down at the clown again. "Then I'll say it was at another Sept, in New York."

Salem snorts. "Truth of Gaia, Lyra," he reminds her. "The truth will out."

"Then -you- punish me," Lyra retorts, holding the doll a little too tightly. "I tried to get some impartial Judging from a Chevy on the other side but it didn't turn out so well."

Salem's frown deepens, his eyes narrowing. "Why do you want to be Judged so badly, Lyra?"

The halfmoon girl is quiet for a moment, after that. "Because I deserve it," she says finally. "I broke the Litany, didn't I? And maybe..." Lyra's fingers tighten even more around the doll. "Maybe it would make it stop hurting."

Salem stares at her for an uncomfortable moment, then exhales a sharp breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Have you talked to anyone else about this?"

"No." Lyra looks up, face stony and determined. "If you think I'm a lovesick fop, then say it. I'm tired of people tiptoeing around with cricket bats."

Salem smiles thinly; the expression doesn't touch his eyes. "I think you're looking to achieve some catharsis, but I don't think you really feel guilty over breaking the first law. If Quentin hadn't broken up with you, would you be coming to me for Judgement? I doubt it."

Lyra smiles and closes her eyes, silent acknowledgement to the truth in the Walker's words. "But I wouldn't have thought what we were doing was wrong, either. If your mate decides to leave you, then what you've done is wrong. Otherwise it would be permissible to stay."

"Lyra," says the Sept Alpha, dryly, "did it ever occur to you that perhaps you and Quentin simply grew apart, and whatever he _said_, the breakup really had nothing to do with the fact that you're both Garou?"