"I think you're remarkably sane, especially considering what you've been through."

[hazlogs]

It is currently Fri Sep 12 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (90% full).

From afar, Konstantin leaves a message: This is Konstantin. Some bad shit going down at the Temple. One of your people is pretty near the edge... and Rina's here too. I didn't see her leave. Police are no doubt going to be here soon, but thought you should know.

Long distance to Tskilegwa and Konstantin: Salem wakes after putting the spouse to bed. How long ago was that phone message?
From afar, to Salem and Tskilegwa, Konstantin called you pretty much right after he left.
Tskilegwa pages to Salem and Konstantin: So likely about 5-10 seconds have passed over here since that call.

You paged Rina with 'Ring ring, then.'.

Rina picks up after several rings, her voice slightly breathless. "Yo.

"Rina?" Salem's voice is rough but recognizable; there are sounds of traffic behind him, cars moving at high speed. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she answers. She's walking. "I dunno about Renee--she was fightin, mighta gotten picked up by the cops or God only knows what."

"_Renee_, what the _fuck_--" Salem cuts himself off. "Where are you now?"

"On the way home. Ah... Montrose Ave and ... Twelfth."

The roar of a passing semi in the background whites out all else at the other end of the line for a moment. Then: "I'll be there shortly."

"I'm fine," she says firmly. "I'll see you soon."

It's actually a good deal later when the knock comes; it's at least a half hour after she arrives home herself.

Rina pages: Even though she was walking?
You paged Rina with 'Yeah.'.

Rina answers it, still dressed in the slick of PVC and half-transparent mesh. Her eyes are worried, shadowy. "Hey."

Salem's dark hair is touseled and his jaw tight; tension radiates from him as his gaze rakes over her form, checking for obvious injuries, and his greeting's little more than a grunt. "'Lo."

"I said I'm fine," she murmurs,as she lets him in. Closing the door, she lowers her eyes and says, softly, "I just saw the blood. When the guy killed him. And some of what-- the he looked like."

Salem prowls around the studio, pacing the space like a caged tiger, light-footed and looking ready to hit something at a moment's notice. He doesn't look at her much -- a glance here and there, nothing more. "Start from the beginning."

"There was a fight. Couple of frat boys." She leans back against the door, her eyes lowered. "Bouncers broke it up and they were escortin' these two jarheads out... and this guy just jumped one of 'em."

Salem pauses with the couch between the two of them and peers at her. "Guy?"

Rina swallows. "Yeah. Idunno if he was a vamp or... somethin' else." She pales slightly. "All I saw was-- a lot of blood, and when I went across to get my coat I think he was... eating. And then Renee kinda cut in."

Salem's mouth twists into a grimace and he's back into motion again, hands pushed deep into the pockets of the summer trenchcoat. "...Will hear all about it in the fucking papers tomorrow, probably... What did he look like?"

Rina paces over to the couch, getting her discarded sketchbook from the coffee table and taking it to him. "I tried to get what I could remember."

Salem holds his hand out for it, and there's a definite sense of him holding back -- he waits for her to hand it to him rather than simply take it.

The dark eyes are guarded, watching his face, trying to search out signs. "You... you wanna tell me what's up?"

Salem shakes his head, mismatched eyes scanning the drawing she's made. "Nothing important," he says flatly. His face is closed, but for the tension and the beast straining at the end of its chain.

Rina swallows. "The moon's waning," she says quietly. "Maybe it'll be better tomorrow." She looks away, then, awkward and unsettled. "I -- maybe I shouldn't've left, but-- I got some people out and I figured I couldn't help anyway."

"Exactly what you should have done." His gaze fixes on her. "Tell me about Renee."

"She just waded in while people were runnin'. Went after the guy. I just-- saw them fighting, and I --" She winces. "I had to get outta there. If he /was/ a vampire, there wasn't shit I could do anyway. And I wasn't gonna stand around and answer questions for the cops."

"Smart girl," Salem says curtly. He offers the sketchbook back to her.

Rina lifts a shoulder, and takes the sketchbook, hugging it to her chest.

Salem grunts again and prowls away from her, circling the couch, hands in pockets again. Pacing.

"Jack..." She watches him, wariness in her eyes. "Talk to me? I'm kinda freaked here."

"It's nothing," he says dismissively. "I'm simply irritable tonight."

Rina nods, and rakes a hand through her hair. "You want anything to drink? Or -- maybe y'oughta try an' find the Gnawer, see if she's aright. I was kinda worried, leavin' her in the shit with the cops prolly on the way..."

Salem grunts. "Renee can take care of herself. She's a Gnawer. They know how to go to ground." He pauses, frowning thoughtfully. "I'll probably wait until morning. Last thing I need is to end up pounding the shit out of her because she takes something _personally_."

Rina nods worriedly. "Sure. Is there, ah... anything I can do?"

Salem stops, poised lightly on the balls of his feet, staring toward the window with a narrow frown. "Forgive me for being an asshole tonight." His voice is flat, no sign of humor.

Rina swallows. "It's okay," she says softly. Wetting her lips, she asks again, "Do you want somethin' to drink?"

Salem considers that for a moment, still staring out the window, mouth pursed. Then he nods, turning back around toward her; he glances her way. "Fine. Yes."

Rina paces toward the kitchen, putting on a pot of water to boil. "I'm sorry about... last time," she says quietly. "The way I acted."

"Eh? Oh." He shrugs and prowls over toward the couch, shrugging out of the coat and draping it across the back. "Dark moods, dark words. It's fine."

Rina chews on her lower lip, as she makes a pot of chamomile tea. "Still. I... I'm really sorry for upsetting you. If it's that..."

Salem shakes his head. "It isn't. Forget it... please?" He drops down onto the couch like a panther coming to rest along a tree branch; he stretches an arm along the back, fingers tapping with the restlessness of a twitching tail.

A silence, and then some rattling around in the kitchen. "Are you gonna be okay, hon?" she says softly, as she pours the calming tea for them both.

Salem shifts his weight, settling. "Of course." The words are still clipped.

She comes to sit down beside him, close enough to be inside the shelter of his arm as she holds out the steaming cup to him.

"Thanks." He sits up to take the cup and, after a sip, holds it in both hands, almost ceremoniously. He seems to be making an effort to reach for calm -- or some semblence of it, anyway.

Rina drinks from her own cup, watching him over the rim with dark, hooded eyes. Worried, clearly... and making an effort not to push him for answers.

Salem's gaze shifts sideways, catching her expression; his mouth thins and he shakes his head again. "It really is nothing. Just the moon and... a lot of little annoyances adding up."

Rina swallows, and lowers her eyes, giving a quick little nod. "Lemme know if there's anything I can do. I'll foist Cat off on you for a day, that'll cheer you up." A wan smile comes to her lips.

Salem's smile is tight, a bare twitch. "I imagine he will, at that." He sips the tea again, slowly, quiet for a moment.

Rina tips her head, trying to coax a smile from him--ducking her head a little to try to meet his eyes.

Salem sidelongs another look at her and raises an eyebrow. Then, after a moment, he salutes her with the tea cup. "This helps. Really."

She lifts one shoulder slightly, and lowers her eyes. The modest pose makes her look like some sort of tea-shrine Madonna. "Me and my drugs, y'know. I all about the magic herbal medication."

That actually gets a bit of a chuckle out of him. Not much of one, but it's a massive improvement to what he came in with. The halfmoon sips again and leans back against the couch cushions; he's still rather tense -- the temper's still on a hair-trigger -- but he doesn't look quite so ready to hit things. "A regular modern witch, you are."

"Well. Maybe with a b," she concedes, flashing him a crooked half-smile. It fades after a moment, touched with something wistful, the shadow of grief falling across her eyes. "Too bad I'm not a real one," she murmurs.

"Mm," says Salem, neutrally. He swirls the tea in his cup a bit and, after a second or two, changes the subject. "Renee passed her challenge, by the way. She actually managed to make me laugh." He looks at the kinswoman, eyebrows arched. "Do you know, she tried to slip me some special, ah, _herbal_ brownies beforehand, though?"

Rina blinks over at him, feigning wide-eyed innocence. "I'm shocked."

Salem squints at her a little. "Don't tell me that you had something to do with that..."

Rina shakes her head, cutting dark eyes at him with that crooked smile again. "Nah. I didn't help her at all."

"You would have, though, if she'd asked?" Salem's smile is thin and dangerous.

Rina looks over at him, her expression mobster Mona Lisa cool. "She did. I didn't." She echoes his smile, a little spark in her eyes. "Keep her in line."

Dark humor glints somewhere in the halfmoon's good eye. "I will. She's a good dog, really," he says, taking another sip of tea. "Just wants to be praised now and again."

She falls silent, turning her attention to her cup and the fragrant steam. Leaning forward in her habitual slouch, she slowly drinks down the chamomile blend.

Salem remains silent as well, companionably so. He is, indeed, calming down, his mood shifting toward something more mellow. She can take comfort in that, if nothing else.

"We should get together f'dinner again, when the moon's better," Rina murmurs quietly.

"I'd like that," Salem says with a nod. "Cat and you and me..."

Rina nods, smiling wryly to the floor. "Yeah. My disnuclear family."

Salem utters a short chuckle at the turn of phrase. "Aptly put."

Looking over to him, she gives him another faint, wistful half-smile. "I don't wanna ever be jealous of her, you know?"

Salem studies the depths of his cup, the mouthful or so of tea left in it. "I know," he says quietly. He meets her gaze solemnly. "No matter what, I am your friend. I don't give my loyalties lightly. _You_ know that."

Rina presses her lips together, and nods silently; tears spring to her eyes, bringing a faint shimmer to the black. She turns toward him a little, settling both hands around her cup and studying him for a long moment--with the look of someone wanting to broach an important subject.

Salem returns her regard evenly, his expression schooled to somber patience. As he waits for her to work up her nerve, he lifts his cup and swallows the last of his tea.

Rina swallows, and lowers her eyes for a moment. "Do you think I'm crazy?" she whispers.

Salem's eyebrows rise slightly, and he shakes his head. "I think you're remarkably sane, especially considering what you've been through." He frowns, a touch of guilt around his mouth as he adds, "I only... the hospital was only because, well." His mouth thins. "You tried to kill yourself."

Rina shakes her head minutely. "I don't mean that," she says softly. "I've always been like that." Dark eyes flicker up to his face, windows into a shadowy void. "I mean John."

Salem shakes his head slightly. "No. I don't think you're crazy. Whether it _is_ him or something pretending to be him..." He exhales a breath, shaking his head again. "I don't think you're crazy," he repeats.

She wets her lips nervously, and then lifts the cup to drink down the last of the honeyed chamomile. A swallow, and then she says, "Is Sashi back yet? Have you-- I mean, has anyone heard from her? And is Tatt okay?"

"Tatt's fine," Salem says. "Sepdet's... still missing." He looks rueful.

Rina swallows, and nods quickly; something dies in her eyes, as they slide away. "I think--" Her voice is hoarse, choked. "I think I'll go to bed early tonight."

Salem nods, watching her intently. "Do you want me to stay? Until Cat comes home, at least?"

Eyes lowered, she blinks several times; the tears darken her lashes, and she shakes her head minutely. "You don't have to," she says softly. "I don't want anyone to wake me, if-- if it comes."

He reaches out, grasping her hand briefly and squeezing it. Then he gets up, smoothly, setting his cup down on the coffee table and reaching for his coat. "If you're certain..."

Rina nods quickly, setting her cup aside and standing up to show him out. "Yeah. I demands hugs, though." True to her word, she tugs him into a swift, fierce embrace at the door.

Even post-chamomile, hugging Jack is still a little like embracing a tiger. He grunts a bit, then hugs her back. "I'll be nearby," he tells her as he pulls away. "You know my number."

"Sure," she murmurs, as she pulls away slightly. Dark eyes meet his for a moment, and then she says, quietly, "Goodnight."

"Good night," Salem echoes. He manages a smile for her, crooked, inclines his head, and turns to go.

This time the door shuts behind him quietly.