"And if I wasn't a... 'sourpuss', as you say, this wouldn't be a challenge."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 15:40 Pacific Time on Wed Aug 27 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly sunny today. The temperature is 73 degrees Fahrenheit (22 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.09 and steady, and the relative humidity is 46 percent. The dewpoint is 51 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (1% 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 comes a knocking at the front door, followed by silence.

Salem is sitting at the breakfast counter with this month's bills, going through them methodically with a calculator and some scrap paper. He glances up at the knock, eyebrow raised, then gets up and answers the door.

Renee is standing on the other side, a baplastic bag in one hand and what looks like a ceramic cooking tray. Whatever is in the tray, is protected by a thin layer of tinfoil. "Yo."

Salem arches an eyebrow. "Afternoon." He gestures her inside. "To what do I owe the honor?"

Renee smirks and heads over to the breakfast table, leaving the bag near the kitchen entranceway as she goes. The tray is placed next to all those bills, before the Gnawer turns and grins at Salem. "Well, its the no-moon an' I came ta tell ya a story. Made somethin' of a sugestion ta Signe an' she said she'd come here an' tickle ya while I told the story, but I figured that wasn't such a hot idea. She figured it'd be worth the stappin' she'd probably get for tryin'."

Salem snorts as he closes the door, his eye going curiously to the tray on the counter. "Signe's a very strange Get," is all he says on the matter. Pacing back over, he leans against the high counter and regards the Gnawer quizzically. "So. Did you need some time to prepare or some such thing?"

Renee shakes her head. "Naw. I'm pretty good." The ceramic cooking tray is lightly nudged in the Walker's direction. "Did cook ta hopes of helpin' ta put ya in a good mood. Made ya brownies. Try one."

"Ah," the Glass Walker deadpans. "Bribery." He lifts the tinfoil to take a peek, then nods and closes it back down. "Mel will be happy."

Renee tilts her head to one side, as she watches the glasswalker. "Ain't ya gonna try one?" She sounds almost a little hurt.

Salem squints a bit. "I had a late lunch," he tells her.

Renee ahhs and rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "Whatever makes ya happy." Yes, its true, she actually sounds hurt. Then again, the Bone Gnawer actually /cooked/. Probably the first time in her life that the girl attempted to cook /anything/ at all. Renee runs a hand through her hair. "So, umm, livin' room is a good place fer me ta start."

"I'll make sure to have one tonight, after dinner," Salem says, his voice desert-dry and apparantly unmoved. He nods her toward the living room area, then prowls into it himself and takes a seat on the comfortable, earth-tones couch.

Renee stands in an area relatively clear of furniture, then turns to grin widely at the Sept Elder. "Now, now," she rumbles. "I've been given somethin' of a tricky task. I gotta tell ya a story, that'd make a sourpuss like you do more then jus' crack a smile." The Galliard smirks, while stuffing her hands into her pockets. "Somethin' more suited ta a Ragabash if ya ask me, but who am I ta argue, eh?"

Salem folds his arms across his chest and smiles thinly, regarding her. "A Galliard needs to be able to move her audience, too. Manipulate emotions. And if I wasn't a... 'sourpuss', as you say, this wouldn't be a challenge."

Renee simply shrugs in response to that. "An' I'm better at creepin' people out, then makin'em laugh. Comes with being a Wanin' Galliard an' all that jaz."

"So, lets get started with the story, eh?" Renee begins, changing the subject and cracking her knuckles, after removing them from her pockets. "Now, as we both know, there are a lot of humans out there that are doin' what they can ta help out with things. This is kind bout one of these families that is doin' just that. They take in ravens, crows, an other birds that've had a bit of a hard time an need a little time ta get back ta usin' their wings."

Salem nods, giving the Galliard his full attention and listening carefully.

Renee clears her throat, before continuing. "Now, this family has done a fuckin' fantastic job at helpin' out these guys, but they got three ravens livin' with'em that they gotta keep lookin' after. "Now, one guy they're lookin' after is Bob. He got bonked on the head real good an' ain't that smart anymore. Doesn't remember how ta fly. Now, the other guys have learned ta tell the humans what they want. The only word that Bob has managed ta learn is Microwave.'" As Renee says this last word, she alters her voice to sound and awful lot like that of a raven. Microwave comes out in a rather high pitched voice and very drawn out; miiiicrooooowave. The Galliard grins "This is cause the humans keep that real tasty bits'a raven food in a broken microwave in the kitchen. Since the good stuff comes outta there, the guy has learned ta say microwave every time he is feelin' the slightest bit happy. Bob does a real good job of drivin' the other two ravens nuts too, since he keeps doin' dumb things. Ya get the feelin' that talkin' ta him ain't the most stimulatin' of conversations."

Salem snorts at the raven imitation, sounding amused.

"Now, the second raven is a guy and named Jose. He had a run in with a car, poor sap ended up breakin' a wing an' it never healed up quite right. Now what he does have goin' for him, if that the guy is real smart. Learned lotsa human words and pretty well has the humans he is livin' with him, doin' what he wants mosta the time. Not that bad a gig, if ya have ta live without flyin'."

The last one they're takin' care of, they've taken ta callin' Morgan. She ended up bein' cornered by this big assed cougar in this little cave an' it scared her so bad, she ain't happy outside of small places. So, ya know, no more flyin' fer her an' she tends ta spend a lot of time in boots an' under the couch. Ya jus' you know, gotta be real careful when ya go ta put in yer boots. Girl has a real good break when it comes ta jabbin' toes."

Salem keeps that thin, crooked little smile of his as he takes in the tale.

So, one day the this family comes an' says hello ta Morgan an' Jose. Jose was real easy ta find, sittin' on the back of his favorite chair. Morgan was a bit trickier, as she was under the couch and not really feelin' like comin' out. After figurin' out where Morgan was, the girl that lives in the place starts ta get worried. Renee's face scrunches up, making her appear younger and she pitches her voice to sound like a pre-pubescent girl. "Daddy, daddy? Where is Bob? I can't find him anywhere?"

"As ya can guess, her dad doesn't know. So, bein' a smart human an' all that, he turns ta Jose an' asks him. Renee tilts her head to one side, fixing Salem with a single eye and expression becoming neutral as she switches characters. "Nevvvvermore," she croaks, in a slightly deeper raven voice then she used before. "Now, this confused the hell outta the guy, Renee continues, expression returning to normal. Because he knows that Jose knows lotsa words an' could easily tell him where Bob is. Lookin' all smug an' shit, Jose hops offa his chair an' starts ta walk down the hall. Startin' ta get worried now, the family goes lookin' all over the house for the raven. Callin' out his name at the top of their lungs."

Just to illustrate her point, Renee starts wandering around the apartment alternatively calling out Bob' in the fathers, or daughters voice. She even goes to far as to check under the couch, directly under Salem's feet.

Salem utters a low, brief chuckle, little more than what's usual for him.

Renee's search eventually takes her into the kitchen and out of Salem's line of sight, where he can hear her switch back into her story-telling voice. "Eventually, after lookin' an' lookin' for this raven they finally hear Bob answerin' them." This is when the Gnawer literally jumps out of the kitchen, wearing what she brought over in that plastic bag and yelling, "Miccccrrrrooooowave!" at that top of her lungs and in Bob's raven-voice. It's a stylized raven's head, made out of bit of tin, cardboard, and cloth. With streamers black hanging off the back and covering Renee's hair. Even the mask's beak claps open and closed, as the Galliard moves. The contraption must have taken her at least a week to make.

Salem stuffens subtly, both eyebrows rocketing toward his hairline. The Walker recovers his composure after a moment and quirks a crooked half-smile.

The mask slips off easily enough and Renee tucks it under one arm as she continues with the story, voice somewhat rougher then when she started. "Hearin' Bob's voice, the two start lookin' even more frantically for him. I mean, the guy has ta be somewhere, right? So they're lookin' an' lookin', while hearin' this bird call out ta'em every few seconds." The Galliard looks at the mask in her hand, holding it up in a way that just might remind Salem of a certain Shakespearean play. The beak on the mask claps open and shut, obviously having some sort of trigger device inside. "Eventually, they find the source of the callin' in one of the bedrooms. Only it ain't Bob. Its Jose, lookin' smug as smug can be. Right now, the two humans know that Jose has up an' done somethin'. No-one looks that smug, without havin' gotten away with somethin'."

Salem chuckles slightly at this. Brownies or no brownies, he's clearly enjoying the tale; the young Galliard is telling it well.

"What have you done?" Renee asks, switching into the fathers voice and shifting her expression to one who is about to loose their patience. "Where is Bob?" The mask is slipped back into place and Renee puts her beak into the air, fixing Salem with a bottle-cap eye and croaking out. "Nevermore."

The Glass Walker smirks.

Removing the prop from her face, Renee's expression is now on the verge of murder as she stomps off a short distance. Clearly imitating the father. Completing a small circuit, she returns to her previous position. "Meanwhile, they're still hearin' Bob callin' out from somewhere in the house. Microwave, over an' over again. If nothin' else, the damn raven seems ta be really fuckin' happy. Eventually, they track the sound of him into the kitchen. Naw, he couldn't be, they're thinkin', as they seem ta find out where the noise is coming from. But yea, that's where Bob's voice is comin' from....."

Salem shakes his head slightly, still smirking.

"Slowly, the daughter reaches out." Renee demonstrates, as she tells the story. Pressing her finger into thin air. "An' presses the button on the microwave door, causing it ta open up with a pop." Even as she is speaking, the mask is slipped back into place and as the last word trails off, she explodes into movement. Black feathers are pulled out of her pockets, before she stretches her arms out to their full length. Giving her mini-wings, as she tilts her masked head up and crouches down. "Miccccrrroooowave!" Renee calls out in the raven's voice, before switching back to her narration. "Bob is yellin' this as he jumps outta the thing an' spreads out his wings he is so happy. The humans are real happy too," Renee continues, straightening' up a bit. "So happy, that they almost don't notice that Jose is behind'em until he speaks. Once again, Salem is fixed with a single bottle-cap eye as she takes on Jose's slightly deeper raven's voice. "Micccrrrooowave. Put him in. Put him in." For the final time, Renee removes the mask and holds it against her chest. "An' I'm tellin' ya Salem, that most fuckin' smug an' pleased raven that you'll ever see in yer life."

Salem laughs. No, really. It's not a huge guffaw, or a long spate of chortling. But it _is_ a laugh, bursting out of him like the raven from the microwave, a single "Ha!"

Renee just grins, breathing a little ragged and sweat visible on her face. She was bouncing around an awful lot. "Not to bad, eh?" She rasps out, then rubs at her throat. "Mind if I help myself ta some water?"

Salem utters the more typical dry chuckle and waves her toward the kitchen sink. "Cups are in the cabinet to the left. There's bottled water in the fridge, though, if you like." The Walker smiles crookedly at her. "Well told."

Renee smiles, as she heads for the kitchen and the bottled water in the fridge. She returns, after taking a drink to sooth her dry mouth and throat. "Thanks. I got it outta book 'bout a guy who does that kinda thing."

"You should consider organizing a storytelling moot," Salem says, watching her with amusement. "The Sept used to have them on occasion. Not just for Galliards and not _just_ great tales of great deeds."

Renee rubs at her jawline, as she looks back into the kitchen. "Maybe, if I find the time. Ya might wanna gimmie those brownies back. Managed ta get a Fianna ta preform the Rite of Spirit Awakenin' on some pot..." The Galliard shrugs. "Even with a good story, I figured I could use all the help I could get an' Kaz never said nothin' 'bout what condition ya had ta be in." THe Galliard is watching Salem rather warily as she tells him this, just incase she has to bolt for the door.

Salem, however, just smirks and nods in a self-satisfied kind of way. "I had a feeling. You're a good talesinger, Renee, but baking brownies seemed a little... out of character." He pushes to his feet, stretching. "You have some celebrating to do tonight in any case, unless I miss my guess."

Renee shrugs, as she continues to sip at the bottled water. "Yea. Still, I hadda give it a try." She smirks. "Tried the first batch out on Jeremy."

Salem arches a brow. "I assumed that they were... potent?"

Renee grins widely. "Yep. Very. Was usin' 'bout a quarter of the stuff I stuck inta those ones."

Salem chuckles again, a brief 'heh', as he re-seats himself in front of the piles of bills. "It was a nice try, at any rate."

Renee finishes off the water and sets it down on the counter, before she starts to collect her props. "So, ya want'em, or should I take'em back with me?"

"Take them," Salem says, waving a pencil toward the tinfoil-covered tray. "Mind-altering substances, I don't need."

Renee slips her arm through the loops of the plastic bag and picks up the tray, before heading toward the door. "Feel free ta drop by my place sometime, Salem," she invites, voice still a little rough from the story telling. "Mother watch." With that, she is letting herself out the door and closing it behind her."

"Mother watch," Salem replies amiably, as she leaves. Afterward, he allows himself another chuckle before turning his attention back to his bills.