"She does not exist to me."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 17:21 Pacific Time on Wed Dec 17 2003.

Currently the moon is in the waning Half Moon phase (40% full).

Cockroach Mansion

Renee calls through the intercom, announcing her presence.

As nearly every other time before, the gate slides open to let her in, and Salem, dressed in t-shirt and black jeans, meets her wordlessly at the door. His eyes are heavily shadowed; he hasn't been sleeping well, if at all.

Renee looks up at the Walker, then motions toward his office in the back. "Need to talk with you."

Salem stares flatly at her for a moment, then gives a tight-lipped nod and leads the way. Upon reaching the office, he closes the door behind them and settles into the big chair behind the desk.

Renee comes within ten feet of the desk and comes to a stop. "Well, I kinda got the impression that Yi said something about owing the Walkers something and somewhat told her what she owed. Wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Salem's eyes narrow, lip curling away from his teeth at mention of Yi. He snorts, a sharp exhalation of air through his nose, and nods.

"Well, do you want to tell me what?" Renee asks, tone flat.

Salem arches an eyebrow slightly, then wrinkles his nose and leans forward to take up the pen that's lying near at hand. "She didn't tell you?" he writes.

Renee shakes her head. "No, not directly. I'd like a straight answer from someone. I'm tired of secrets."

Salem sniffs. With a shrug, he sits back in the chair, twiddling the pen between his fingers absently for a moment. Then, looking at her directly, his face as stony as it was during the Judgement earlier this week, he uses the non-business end of the pen to slice a line across his throat, ear to ear.

Renee smiles, but its more a baring of teeth. "I see. I want you to go to the zoo and give her something less fatal to do."

Salem lifts an eyebrow again, and once more his shoulders move in a shrug. The chair creaks as he leans forward. He writes, "Nothing else I want from her. Her apology not accepted." He underlines "not," his lips pressed together into a tight, grim line. There is no pause as he adds, underneath, "Either that, or nothing, and she owes us nothing." Both "nothing"s are underlined too. The second one twice. He starts to sit back, then adds another line, belatedly, "She does not exist to me."

Renee's eyes narrow. "Then you will go there and tell her that she owes you nothing."

Salem folds his arms across his chest and stares directly back at the Bone Gnawer, his scarred face set and stubborn.

Renee looks like she is going to blow her top at first, then stubbornly brings herself back under control. She begins patting at her jacket as if looking for something. Lifting up oneside and eventually pulling out a pack of gum. After helping herself to one piece, she silently offers the package to the Walker.

Salem refuses the offering with a tight shake of his head.

Renee puts the gum back, wriggling her hand around as she works it back into an inner pocket. Only, when her hand comes back out, it moves with surprising speed and is clutching a gun. The weapon is leveled at the Waler's chest without a word and the trigger is squeezed.

From afar, Renee is just aiming for the chest, not really trying to kill the guy. Only make him hurt. A lot.
You paged Renee with 'Normal, or silver?'.
Renee pages: Silver. Hence only one shot. She stole the stuff from Jer. He is going to be real happy when he gets home. She is close and everything. Probably just get a shoulder.

Salem's eyes widen visibly as the gun comes out, and as the Gnawer pulls the trigger, the Glass Walker throws himself to the side --

The report of the handgun is thunderous within the confines of the office, covering the involuntary, cracked yelp from the Walker hit. He was lucky -- the silver bullet embeds itself in his shoulder, not his heart.

Renee takes two steps back from the desk after Salem dives for cover, weapon trained on the spot where he disappeared. "Move slow enough and I won't shoot you again," she states coldly and without any emotion.

A beat passes. Then two. Then -- without the merest utterance, the big desk heaves upward into the air and is _thrown_ at Renee by the bleeding, black-furred, nine-foot-plus monster that rises up from underneath it.

"Jack--?" The yell is wrenched with worry, coming from somewhere in the hallway outside.

Renee swears, as she dives to one side in an attempt to avoid the desk. If that is successful, she does her best to aim her gun at the towering mass of black fur and sends a rapid burst of gunfire in his direction.

The desk, some giant mahogany thing, is well and truly hefted from the floor and thrown towards the Galliard. Renee dives to the side but doesn't get far enough to escape the furniture's length, it having turned slightly mid-air and now coming down very heavily on her from arms downward. With some struggling, she is able to get her gun-arm free, though whether she can aim from her prone position is questionable.

"DROP IT." The hoarse, sharp voice is not recognizable as Rina's, but it seems to have come from her: pale and swaying, holding a .45 in her right hand, her left wrist in a cast and sling.

The Kin seems to have propped herself against the doorway; she is wearing the oversized leather jacket, and it makes her look smaller and paler.

Cutter slams an arm into the door frame to stop himself as he appears over Rina's shoulder. He also appears to be wielding a pistol.

Scar has dropped to all fours and is preparing to pounce upon the pinned Bone Gnawer when Rina and Cutter burst into the office. At Rina's word, he stays his attack, though black claws dig into the rich carpeting. The bulletwound in his left shoulder continues to bleed, the acrid scent of silver-burned flesh noticeable over that of fresh blood.

Renee's nostrils flare as she looks back at the two new arrivals, then back at the injured Crinos. Carefully, she puts the gun down and knocks it a short distance away. Tilting her head back, the girl shows throat. Accept an Honourable Surrender. Damn that Litany.

Rina slumps slightly into the doorway, and the muzzle of the .45 drops. "Jesus /fucking/ christ," she says hoarsely. "You better have a damn good explanation, Gnawer."

Cutter slips into the room around Rina, moving into a corner where there are no raging garou or giant desks. His pistol is held at the ready, muzzle pointed straight up. He studies both combatants intently.

Scar bares long white fangs at the surrender, but there's no question of Litany or no Litany. Smoothly, the Walker melts back into human form, and blood immediately starts turning the nice white t-shirt bright red. He gets to his feet, breathing hard and staring at Renee -- his expression one of fury, and for a moment or two, the face of one betrayed.

Renee's teeth grind and she is obviously in quite a bit of pain. "Yi owes the Walkers a big favour. She asked Salem how she could replay him. He told her to kill herself. She took him seriously. I have her under suicide watch, for fucks sake. I told him to give her something else to do and he refused. He'd rather let Yi kill herself, because he is angry with her. His pride is more important then her life!" She's furious, bloody furious. "As far as I'm concerned, he is trying to kill my packmate and mocking me as he does so!"

"I told your fellow /Gnawer/ she can deal with /me/," Rina snarls. "And if she's enough of an *idiot* to kill herself over Jack, I don't see how it's /our/ fucking problem." Her voice turns harder, colder--still hoarse and almost raw-sounding. "No one is tryin' to kill your little /friend/. But what *is* our business is you, comin' in here and puttin a bullet in a Glasswalker. On. Our. Fucking. Turf." The Kin may not possess Rage--but this is likely as close as anyone has seen one to murderous psychotic fury.

Cutter frowns and tucks his pistol into his jacket pocket. His attention leaves the two Garou and he begins studying the room, glancing quickly out the door and into the hall.

Salem, meanwhile, walks over toward a legal pad that had gotten thrown aside when the desk it was lying peaceably on went flying. Blood still leaking from his left shoulder, he picks it up and flips it to the top page. Stalking over toward the fallen Gnawer, he holds the writing he made earlier out to her and taps the last line with a finger: "She does not exist to me."

"Its no diff'rent then when Salem came into my home, my Territory, and tore out my guts last year," Renee snaps back. "She owes the Walkers a debt of Honor because she fucking killed Walkers while Ghouled by a vampire years ago. She is going to repay that anyway she can, even if that involves killing herself." At Salem's actions, the Galliard growls. "If she is nothing to you, then doing that small favor for me shouldn't have been that hard for you. But no, its you and your stupid fucking Pride that's stopping you. If I'd done the same thing to /your/ packmate, you would have tracked me down in my home and torn me apart. You know that Salem, just as well as I do." There is a brief pause, as Renee struggles for breath. "I don't want you dead Salem. Just some pain, like you did to me once. If I'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Think about it, I could have filled you with a dozen shots before you could have reacted."

Renee coughs and a broken rib punctures her lung, causing a trickle of blood to drip out of the side of her mouth. "Someone mind getting this off me?"

Salem's boot strikes the desk in a solid kick. There's nothing yielding in his face, nothing forgiving, only stubbornness and anger. He shifts up to Crinos only just long enough to pull the heavy piece of furniture off her and, once he's back in homid form, points very firmly at the door.

Cutter slips past Rina into the hallway, muttering "Scuse me..."

Renee remains on the ground and bulks up to Glabro. She stays there, prone, as her bones begin to reset themselves.

"You'd die for it," Rina says flatly. "You tell Yi she can talk to /me/." Her expression twists, contempt and revulsion clear in the set of her mouth. "Now get the /fuck/ outta our house."

Renee stands and shrinks back into her birth form, before bending down to collect her weapon.

Salem bares his teeth suddenly and moves to put his foot down between the Gnawer and her gun.

Renee scowls and looks up at the Walker. "I give you my word, that I won't do anything with it. Its Jeremy's and I need to return it."

Salem glowers down at Renee, refusing to budge, refusing to let her have the gun. Again, he points her at the door.

"He's our Kin," Rina says flatly. "I'll get it to him. Get. Out."

Rina takes a step out of the doorway, gesturing peremptorily to the Gnawer with her gun.

Renee rolls her eyes and stands. "You know Salem, your pride will be the death of you one day and it will leave you very alone. I've learned from all the shit I've gone through recently and what I'll go through soon. You haven't. May Gaia have pity on your soul." With that, the Galliard turns around and walks out of the room.

Salem folds his arms across his chest, unmoved by the Bone Gnawer's parting lecture. His jaw is clenched, and his nostrils flare with each inhale. And the bullet-wound in his shoulder continues to bleed.

Rina's features tighten visibly, and the hand with the gun lifts, taking aim at the back of Renee's knee. She quivers for a moment, and then moves to escort the Gnawer from the building. "You need to learn when to shut the fuck up," she says quietly. "Get off our turf. Don't come back unless y'plan on crawling." She lets the woman open the door for herself--keeping the gun at the ready in her good hand.

"I'm a Galliard," is Renee's quick reply. "Shutting up isn't in my vocabulary." With that, she is out the door and walking toward the gates.

Cutter returns to the office, a small mirrored compact in hand.

As Rina escorts the Bone Gnawer out, Salem drops into his chair, wincing. Darkly, he glowers at the mess of his office. The desk, though back upright, isn't in its place. Both the chairs that had been in front of it are overturned. Papers and pens everywhere.

The gate is opened to let Renee leave, and swings slowly closed behind her. Only then does Rina lower the gun and shut the front door. She leans back against it, her eyes closed, the gun hanging limp at her side; a moment later a primal scream of pent-up fury echoes in the entry hall.

Cutter says "Can you hear it?" He frowns around the room, at the ceiling... "The whispering? Or is it just me?" He winces at the scream and then shakes his head. "Um. Never mind."

Salem's gaze shifts toward Cutter, and he grimaces with a pain that's nothing to do with his shoulder. Somehow, he doesn't seem surprised, though he does shake his head no in answer to the Lord's question.

Rina appears in the doorway to the office, leaning her good shoulder against the doorjamb to prop herself up. She looks sick with anger. "I'll kill her," she says hoarsely. "Goddamn mouthy bitch Gnawer scum. I'll fucking call Dino in and /bury/ that lying /cunt/."

Cutter glances at Rina, then looks up at the ceiling again and around the room. "I was afraid of that, yeah."

Soon after Renee has taken off, Jeremy finds himself punching the code in at the front door, then slips inside. "Hello?" His voice echos from the main room, loudly. "Anyone here?"

Salem starts to sit up, face tightening as he partially stifles a grimace of pain. Bloodied Elder, a Shadow Lord hearing voices, a furious Mafia-raised Italian, and a usually-tidy office entirely in disarray with huge scratches in the massive mahogany desk. It's quite a scene.

Cutter turns toward the office door. "Who the hell is that?"

Rina closes her eyes, and sinks against the edge of the door. "Jesus," she mutters. Then she straightens, stepping back out into the hall. "Office, Jer," she calls out. "Now."

Cutter pushes one of the chairs over near the door. "Rina? Please?" he murmurs.

"Um.. is everything OK? Guys, someone broke into my house when I was at work an took a lot of my shit.. um.. well.. just a lotta special bullets and a gun. Its kinda freaking me out, ya'know, with um.. Ebony..dead.. an shit.." Jeremy peers up at Rina and blinks. "Hey, you OK? What happened to you?" Jeremy asks, making his way towards the office, trench coat fluttering about his person.

Rina looks to Cutter in blank confusion for a moment, and then leads Jeremy into the tornado-struck office. She flips the thumb safety on the .45, and uses the gun to gesture wearily to another handgun on the floor, one that Jeremy might recognize. "There," she rasps. An instant later she is sinking into the chair carefully, her features tightening in a pronounced wince.

Cutter nods. "Thanks hon. You guys obviously have house cleaning to do. Want me to bugger off and try to find somebody to teach me Mother's Touch?"

".. Um.. " Jeremy says, blankly, staring at the gun for a moment, then looks to Rina. ".. If you guys wanted to borrow a gun, you coulda just asked. OR.. something.." He trails off, bending over and picking it up. He checks the rounds and frowns a bit, then starts to peer about.

Salem notices Jeremy's searching glance and wordlessly points at the spreading bloodstain in his left shoulder. There's almost, _almost_ a hint of the old wry humor. Almost.

"Fucking Renee fucking /shot/ him," Rina snarls.

Jeremy blinks his eyes a bit, then slowly lets out a breath. Shifting some uncomfortably, he slips the gun into his jacket, securing it inside a pocket.

Rina looks up at Cutter in weary confusion. "I'll be fine," she says simply. "Broken bones heal."

Cutter shakes his head. "Not just you, hon. All three of you. I don't want to be underfoot."

"Um... Why?" Jeremy asks slowly as he glances over to Salem, then back to the others.

Salem exhales a thin, slow breath through his teeth, then pushes to his feet and retreats through the door into the adjoining bedroom and the small bathroom beyond it.

Rina swallows. "Can you maybe wrap that for him?" she asks Cutter quietly. "Or Jer can do it. If he'll let you. It needs a pressure dressing." She leans her head back, letting her eyes close--lashes dark against pale cheeks.

Cutter nods and ducks into the back room with a perfunctory knock.

"No one needs to answer me all at once." Jeremy says with a shrug of his shoulders, then lets out a breath. "I'm going back home, so I can change the locks on my doors.." He mutters. "Again, and what not."

The Shadow Lord finds the bathroom easily enough, by the open door and the light coming out of it (the bedroom itself is dark). Salem is facing the bathtub/shower, stiffly tense... probably because a ten year old boy is hanging dead from his shower-fixture. Blood drips down into the tub, spattering the white porcelin.

Cutter says "Uh."

"Sorry, Jer. You keep that piece locked up?" Her voice is hoarse and unsteady, and her eyes remain closed.

Rina pages to the room: ....pit...pat...pit...pat
Snaik pages to the room: Exactly, Rina. :)

Cutter swallows. "I think I've gotta go," he says quietly, backing out of the room. He reappears in the office, even paler than usual, a hand pressed to his stomach.

You paged Snaik with 'What does the boy look like? Dark hair? Blond?'.
Snaik pages: Dark hair, pale skin. Moorish.

Jeremy groans faintly and turns, heading for the door of the office. He pauses once Cutter appears in it, then furrows his brows. "You ok? Yeh'look sick."

Salem hunches his shoulders, teeth gritted against pain; he's not bothering to use the Gift to ignore it. His face pale, the Walker approaches the tub and takes the body down... or, well, he _would_, except that as soon as his hand comes in contact with it, it vanishes.

Rina lifts her head to look to Cutter, and her brow furrows. A flicker of what might be worry, or alarm, awakens in her eyes. With another wince and a hissing intake of breath, she hauls herself to her feet.

You paged Snaik with 'Does the blood vanish too?'.
Snaik pages: Yep.

"What?" Rina says quietly.

Cutter takes a deep breath. "Salem?" he calls out, "Please tell me there's nothing in the bathtub except a soap ring. That it's just my fucked up head again."

The blood is gone, too. Nothing but a nice clean tub and shower combination. Alone in the bathroom, Salem shudders, then abruptly sinks down to sit on the lowered toilet lid, the palm of his right hand resting against his forehead.

Jeremy furrows his brows slightly and slips past Cutter, making his way towards the bathroom with a soft sigh. "Salem?" He asks, peeking inside. "Whats going on....." He trails off, staring at the bathtub.

A straight man should not have a bathtub that clean. Yes, it _is_ horrifying.

Cutter does not turn back to look again, he just stands in the office. "Don't fuck around, man. Just tell me. No creepy whispering, no... nothing in the tub." His voice is strained and very quiet.

Jeremy glance sover to Salem and raises up a brow, looking confused.

Salem glances up at Jeremy and wearily shakes his head. He makes a kind of waving 'go away' gesture, shooing the kinfolk back out to the office.

Rina looks up to Cutter, her eyes suddenly ...haunted. "You... heard something?" Her voice is unsteady. "What?"

Jeremy shrugs his shoulders and turns, heading out of the bathroom, muttering to himself. With that, he calls out to the others. "I'm going home and ganna change the locks on my door, then go back to being ignored. See you guys!" He says in a merry, sardonic manner, then heads for the entrance.

Rina shakes her head a little, as if to clear it. "Jer," she says quietly. "Get a safe for that gun, willya?"

Thunkity thunk. The gun gets tossed behind him, landing on the floor and skids to a stop. Jeremy shrugs his shoulders, reaching into his pocket for his keys. "Whatever."

Rina closes her eyes for a moment, her jaw tightening in a brief spasm. Then she looks up again, to Cutter. "What did you /hear/?" she asks, almost in a whisper.

Sometime during Jeremy's disgruntled departure, Salem rouses himself enough to get the first aid kit from under the sink. Alone, he pulls off the bloodied t-shirt and, methodically, takes out a pocketknife and opens it. He pauses, steeling himself with Resist Pain, then begins the messy, bloody process of digging that damned piece of silver out of his left shoulder. Good thing he's right-handed.

Cutter shakes his head. "It was like there were two people in the room the whole time this...." he waves a hand at the room. "This drama was going on. I figured it was just my head. And I saw... something in the bathroom. And then I knew it was just my head."

Cutter says "So. Yeah. I'm just gonna go home and get some sleep."

Rina's brow furrows, and she says, quietly, "More ghosts. Great." She lowers her eyes, and nods. "Yeah. You got my number and everything?"

Cutter says "Number. Address. Shoe size. Eye color. The way your eyes shine when you start talking about something you're really crazy about. Yeah. I'm set."

When she looks up, her eyes seeem bruised, too dark for the wan face. The .45 is left on the chair, and her good hand is free to come up and touch his cheek. "Come by tomorrow," she says hoarsely. "I'll be goin' stir crazy in here, what with Jack not talking."

He covers her hand with his own and smiles crookedly. "You know me. Just like a bad penny. Take it easy, okay? I know you're Superman and all, but I want you to get better."

Rina's mouth curls in a sad attempt at a smile. "Oh, what-/ever/," she murmurs. Her breathing is careful and shallow, her eyes weary. "Let's check on Jack, before you go? I d'no if he can bandage it alone...and I don't hear anything." She lets the touch fall away, and leads him back toward Salem. "Jack?"

Cutter hesitates, balking like a spooked horse. After a few moments he reins himself in and moves slowly toward the bedroom.

The bathroom reeks of fresh blood, but it isn't supernatural this time. As they enter, the silver bullet clinks into the sink, followed soon by the bloodied pocketknife. The Walker himself looks more than a little pale, but his hand is remarkably steady. He glances at them both, flatly, then shifts up into Glabro to let what damage _isn't_ silver-related heal.

There appears to be a giant, seven-fingered handprint embedded in Salem's chest. But that's another story.

Rina swallows, stopping in her tracks when he shifts. "I'll try and help you wrap it, tonight, maybe," she says weakly, averting her eyes. Then she turns away, to catch herself on the doorway's edge. "I'm-- I'm just gonna-- go lay down, again, I think." The anger seems to have washed away, leaving her stranded and strengthless like a beaten bit of driftwood thrown up on a shore.

Cutter pauses once again at the door to the bathroom, and steps aside to let Rina through. "Get some rest," he murmurs, distracted. But he can't stop looking at the shower head.

Salem watches Rina go with a deep frown, then turns away, his face blank, to start the water running. He has to clean up the blood, after all. Some of it. The worst of it.

Rina touches Cutter's hand, as she passes him, and then she walks out to return to the couch in the parlor.

Cutter starts at the touch, then shakes his head. After a deep inhalation, he looks at Salem. "What about it, man? You want a hand there?"

Salem glances back at the Shadow Lord, considering him for a moment. Then he nods curtly.

---

Cutter helps get Jack bandaged up (since he did take a level of agg damage from the silver) and heads off. Rina crashes out on Jack's bed for a bit. Meanwhile, Leala and Jeremy go out and cubnap Joshua. Jack notes them coming in with the unconscious cub...

In the parlor, Pacing back and forth, Leala waits. It's been a while, and she's not sure how long these tranquilizers are supposed to last. This being her first cub-snatching experience, she's quite nervous. The pacing continues, and she occassionally stops to peer down at the boy laying on the couch, or to fuss with some food on a coffee table nearby.

In the parlor, Joshua's mind slowly becomes more lucid as Leala paces, as the drug wears off. But he doesn't move, for fear of attracting attention... Maybe she'll just go away?

Leala continues the pacing. On her final lap past the boy, she notices that his breathing pattern has changed. "Would you like something to drink?" she asks politely. "We have soda, coffee, or water?"

Joshua, found out, opens his eyes, blinking. He curls slightly, swallowing dryly. "I... I just wanna go. I didn't see anything, I swear." he stammers

You paged Rina with 'Probably would have shown her a note saying that it looks like we have a new member. He wouldn't have talked, though. He's really settling into this mute thing.'.

Giving the kid a quizzical look, Leala stops in front of him. "That's nice that you didn't see anything, but it doesn't really change our situation here." She sighs, and profers him a dish with some cookies on it. "You sure?" She grabs one and bites into it as a sign of good faith. "We have a lot to talk about, and you'll probably need your energy."

The man that enters the parlor is probably not going to give the newcomer any greater feeling of relief. He's over six foot, he looks like a skinhead thug, he has scars that would frighten children, and his expression is utterly humorless. Salem's put on a new t-shirt over his freshly-bandaged shoulder, and as he enters his mismatched eyes fix immediately on Joshua.

Scrawny, Joshua is in his late teens'. He stands at 5' 9", and is by no means a towering giant. His arms and neck seem wiry and ill suited to any sort of heavy labor. His skin seems stretched over his frame, pale, and of clear northern European descent. His face is cold and lined, with no real defining features: dull brow eyes, thin lips, a smaller nose, and a few freckles still clinging on after most of them faded away. His hair is a dirty red color, and is kept short year-round. Currently, Joshua is wearing a pair of loose blue jeans, and beaten brown suede jacket. Under the jacket is a white tee shirt, with a denim blue, button front shirt thrown over it. Dark tennis shoes poke under the jeans, scuffed and tattered past brand recognition. He carries a black courier's bag with him, slung over his shoulder.

Rina trails after Salem, much smaller and much less intimidating--well, at least in terms of physical presence. She is only intimidating in that way that many extremely attractive women can be, and tonight she looks rather fragile. Her face is pale, her eyes shadowy as black velvet. Her left arm is in a sling, with a plaster cast around the wrist and hand; perhaps that isn't the only injury, for she moves and breathes carefully. She heads toward the kid on the couch, giving him a wan smile. "Hey," she murmurs, offering her right hand to him. "I'm Rina. What's y'name?"

Joshua pushes himself upright, looking at Leala with almost a pleading look. "But I didn't see anything." He says, as if objecting. "If I didn't see it, what can I talk about..." he's cut off just as the scarred giant walks in. The scarred man with a damaged left eye: just like the man who tried to rob and kill Joshua just days ago, the man he's been on the lookout for since. It's barely a second after Rina speaks, before Josh, panicing, jumps behind the couch. Doesn't help much, but he's not rational at the momeny.

Salem wrinkles his nose, looking dour and exasperated. Frowning questioningly, he looks over at Leala and folds his arms across his chest.

Leala drops the plate of cookies back on the table hurridly and walks towards Joshua. "Look, Joshua, we aren't here to hurt you. Whatever you saw, or didn't see, it's not why we've brought you here. We just want to talk to you, I swear." She turns to Salem, noting the shoulder, but pushing it to the back of her mind, and says, "This is Joshua Doyle. He's a... new... cub." The last sentance is squeaked out.

"Easy," Rina says quietly. "Jack's not gonna hurt you, or anything. Just... sit back down, wouldja? And we'll talk, maybe getcha somethin' warm to drink. Chill for a while."

At least /she/ doesn't look all that scary, with her arm in a sling. She backs off a step, making a placating, calming gesture with her free hand.

Joshua scoots backwards on his butt, though, away from Salem as fast as he can manage, despite the words of calm. Back bumping into the wall, he presses against it, as if he where hoping that eventually he could push his way through it. "I won't say anything, I swear! You can have the laptop, take it, take it!" He practically yells, clutching his fists to his chest.

Salem passes a hand over his face, fingers pausing to pinch at the bridge of his nose in a tired 'why me' kind of way. Slowly, he walks over to the cringing youth, frowning down at him.

"Do you know him?" Leala asks Salem, "because he sure seems to think he knows you." She moves back a couple of steps as well, though she still seems kind of nervous.

"Jesus, Jack, don't /loom/," Rina says dryly, rolling her eyes a little at the tall man. Her attention returns to the boy, the dark eyes touched with worry. "Josh-- can I call you Josh? Look, nobody's gonna hurt you, OK?"

"I've said that like 10 times Rina," Leala adds, getting a little tired. "I think he's being chased by someone or something and he thinks we are them."

Josh slowly starts to breathe even again, looking back up Salem as Salem frowns down at him: Nothing terrible happened, which was unexpected. All he can manage is a look between being scared and being confused. "You.. . Yer not him?" he says weakly, a mixture between a question and a statement.

Salem's shake of the head is answer both to Leala and Joshua. Rina's remark makes him snort again. He makes a rather impatient 'get up' gesture at the boy and waves him toward one of the armchairs near the other two Walkerfolk.

Joshua hastily stands up, slowly pacing his way to the chair waved at, watching Salem all the while.

Salem fails to leap at Joshua and pound him to a pulp. How disappointing.

Leala looks pleased that they are finally getting somewhere. takes a seat in an empty chair, leans back, and rubs her eyes.

Rina runs the good hand through her hair, letting out a cautious breath. "This is Jack Salem," she says quietly. "And I guess Lee's already introduced herself." She goes to the couch, and sits down, drawing in a hissing breath. The dark eyes study Josh, then, curiously.

Leala's eyes widen suddenly. "Uh, I'm Leala Marx," she says looking sheepish. She raises her eyebrows and smiles, obviously embarrassed.

Salem joins the others, his tall frame dropping into his favorite chair, long legs stretching out, crossed at the ankles. His elbows propped on the arms of the chair, the Walker Elder steeples his fingers and watches the new fish carefully.

Tentatively sitting down, Josh breaks off his gaze at Salem, as Salem starts his inquisition. Looking at Leala, and then at Rina, he fumbles with his mouth for a half a moment, before chewing out. "'m Josh.. . Josh Doyle."

Rina cracks a wry, slightly weary smile. "Nice to meetcha. Would you maybe tell me what happened?" Without leaning forward, she gives an impression of interest, of focus; perhaps it's the sharpness of that dark gaze.

Salem's gaze shifts sidelong over to Rina, his expression pensive, thoughtful. Then he focusses on Joshua again.

"Wu... what happened? Here?" Joshua tries to shrink back into the chair, as much as he can. "I. I thought that he was... " As he starts the sentence, you can almost see the gears turning in his head. "But if he's not the man, then... then why did you attack me and drag me here?"

Leala leans forward, her gaze also focused on he newcomer. "We didn't /attack/ you," she says, looking disgruntled. "Granted, Jeremy didn't approach it with the same tact I would have. Do you remember what he said before you started running away?"

Rina wets her lips. "I mean before you got here. How you got here." She quirks another of those wry smiles. "Just wanna know how it went down, and what we can do to unscare ya."

Joshua shakes his head, no. "I didn't think to... yeah." He says, as if it clears everything up. "No." He pauses, while he listens to Rina... "Oh... I thought he was with him, that guy with the trench coat n' the glasses 'n was all goth 'n stuff... 'n then I tried to get away, so he shot me with sumthin, 'n then I get here 'n then..." He looks around, as Josh starts to get nervious again. "Then why you'd grab me?" He asks, look darting between the three.

"Because you're family," Leala says simply.

Rina watches him, a flicker of something wistful in her eyes. "A lotta this is gonna seem really weird, Josh," she says quietly. "But you're here because you're special. 'Cause of who your parents are. There's a reason we brought you here... there's some stuff we hafta tell you."

Salem shifts his weight, sinking lower in the chair. Just listening from behind linked hands.

"Who my parents where?" He asks, his voice strengthing a little. "Family? What are you talking about? I don't rember any of you. And..." Josh adds, accusingly. "You didn't know my name, you said. How could you know I was related if you don't even know who I am?"

"I knew who you were because a kinfetch came and told me where to find you. This probably doesn't make any sense, but we nabbed you because you need to know who you are and why you're different from the people around you." Leala sighs. Such explanations are clearly not her forte.

Rina tips her head slightly, and lowers her eyes for a moment. "Have you, ah... had any trouble at school? Like, getting into fights, people not gettin' along with you, that kinda thing?"

Joshua doesn't have to think back long... the fights, the getting kicked out of his home, the friends that where nowhere to be found when he needed them... Josh tries to press back further into the armchair, narrowing his eyes a little. "Yeah, what's that got to do with anything... and Kinfetch?" From paranoid to accusatory and paranoid.

Salem, Joshua and Rina sat in the parlor, Josh opposite of the two, and sweating profusely. Leala excused herself out of the room for a moment, leaving the three.

Rina tips her head slightly, and lowers her eyes for a moment. "Have you, ah... had any trouble at school? Like, getting into fights, people not gettin' along with you, that kinda thing?"

Joshua doesn't have to think back long... the fights, the getting kicked out of his home, the friends that where nowhere to be found when he needed them... Josh tries to press back further into the armchair, narrowing his eyes a little. "Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?" From paranoid to accusatory and paranoid.

The dark-haired Italian girl focuses on Josh. "A lot. That stuff is happening because of who you are, see." The sympathy in her eyes might be genuine--all the more so, perhaps, because her expressions are so restrained, that wistfulness half-concealed beneath a businesslike manner.

Salem, meanwhile, remains silent, watching Joshua with an almost feline intensity.

"Who I am?" Josh echoes, wishing that they would stop dancing around the issue... and that he could get away from The scarred man who looked like the mugger. "No, I don't see."

Once again the Goth kin heads back into the Mansion, carrying a backpack around his shoulder. A loud sigh escapes him, until he hears voices from within the parlor. Soon, he is seen peeking his head in at the three. "How is he coming along?"

Salem glances sidelong at Rina and lifts an eyebrow questioningly.

Rina takes a careful breath, and glances over her shoulder to Jeremy. "Come in, if you want. We just started talkin', and we haven't hit the rough part yet." With her right hand (the working one, that is) she gestures toward a chair, not far from the archway leading out of the parlor. "Feel free."

Joshua narrows his eyes, as the Goth punk walks in, the one who actually DID shoot him. Blinking, he grips the armrests tightly, but says nothing.

Jeremy lifts up a hand slightly and waves it to Joshua, his aura of 'cool' gone now that he is out of the Matrix and in the 'real world'. "Hi." He says, offering a smile, his glasses gone now to reveal a pair of blue eyes. "Sorry 'bout the dart. I figured it'd be easier to knock you out that way, instead of have you go nuts and take out a few people while you do that in the public."

Salem looks mildly bemused at this, then shifts his weight in the armchair, sitting up as though vaguely restless.

A slight wince comes to Rina's expression. "Oh." She looks over to Josh, a bit chagrined. "Sorry about that. We... kinda have to be careful, about setting people off. You... could be real dangerous, if you flipped out and got really violent." She glances down for a moment, framing her thoughts; then she looks across to the boy again, a directness in her eyes. "See, you're not entirely human."

Joshua was about to retort with a 'damn right I can be dangerous,' When Rina follows it up. He blinks twice, staring directly at Rina... "Not entirely human?" He echoes, not believing that any of this could be happening. Kidnapped by a bunch of nuts?

Salem abruptly pushes to his feet and starts making a round of the parlor windows, methodically making sure all the curtains are drawn closed. His expression seems rather grim.

"Yer a werewolf." Jeremy point blankly says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Which of course sounds ludicrous to you, and, it should. You are born in a world full of Urban Legends and Fairy tales. But, even in the darkest, ebbing shadows of night." His voice turns a bit soft, drawn out. "Even creatures of the fiercest nature exist." Then, he straightens up, clearing his throat. "But you learn to live with it."

Rina's eyes flicker briefly heavenward, as Jeremy waxes poetical; her attention focuses on Joshua's reaction, though.

Ludicrous is an understatmet: The youth bites his toung, trying not to burst out laughing at the Twenty-Somthing. Forcing back the grim grin that threatened to overtake him, Josh stood up, pointing around. "You three... you're all fucking Nuts! All of ya! Ya think I'm a fuckin' what?"

Taking out a voice recorder, Jeremy murmurs. "Subject begins to display normal, routine behavior upon finding out that he is indeed, a lycanthrope." Click. He slowly turns his head to Salem, then shrugs his shoulders. "I don't think he believes us." Is an understatement. "Wanna show 'em?"

Salem closes the last curtain, checks it for openings, and turns back just as Jeremy makes his suggestion. The tall man nods and turns to look directly at Joshua. And then, impossibly, he starts sprouting hair and growing in height and mass until, several seconds later, a nine-foot-plus werewolf is standing there, some kind of burned bulletwound still freshly marking his left shoulder, gauze hanging loosely about that area.

Rina glances over her shoulder. "Cover the exit, Jer," she says quickly. Leala, too, is visible out in the hall, watching. She returns her attention to Joshua.

"You know, if he does freak out and end up going fuzzy. Me standing near the exit to be mowed don't probably won't help much." Jeremy says calmly as he sidesteps in front of the door, arms crossing over his chest as he stares across to Joshua. Click. "Subject has now faced in-depth reality that the possibility of him 'may' be true that he is a lycanthrope." Click.

Joshua turns to look at Salem, as Jeremy talks to him. And his indignite look drops slowly to one of sheer terror, as the nightmare shifts into being in the corner of the room. Backing up as fast as he can move, he knocks over the chair, running as for the door that Jeremy now blocks. Right into Jeremy.

As the cub starts barreling towards Jeremy, he lets out a slow breath, then drops down to a knee as he props himself up by his palms. With a shift of his weight, he throws out the other leg in an attempt to hook the cub about the knees and take him down. "Please don't shift, please don't shift."

Wincing, Rina hauls herself out of her chair and steps into the fray--reaching out with her right hand to try to catch Joshua's upper arm.

The youth piles into the Goth, and gets knocked to the floor. With a tud, his head smacks the carpet, causing the world to reel slightly: his entire body tremles slightly under the shock. Breathing real short and shallow, Josh is too dazed to pick himself up off the floor yet.

"Glad I learned something." Jeremy murmurs as he shifts his weight up a bit, taking a few steps back and getting an odd look from Leala. "Man, this part of the napp'n sucks."

Rina offers Josh a hand up, her expression pained. "Stay calm," she says quietly.

Scar circles the room toward them. The Crinos is ready to act at the first sign of danger, and he will soon command the archway leading out of the room.

Josh's mind races: The thing was circling, It was coming for him, It was gonna to kill him, It was gonna to get revenge for Mr. Jarred's taking his eye, it was gonna... The stress and near nonstop terror of the last week came into sharp focus, as Josh snapped: The cub's skin crawls as he starts shifts for the first time, pulling himself to his feet. As he rockets up, he finishes his shift, now in Crinos, trying to clumsily lunge toward his accoster. Never having been 9 feet tall and partially wolf, the cub is weak and ineffectual at best, but it would ruin any normal human's day if the slow lung actually hit them.

Scar snarls silently, finishing his circling approach faster than the human eye can track. He sweeps a closed fist across in a long arc, and it slams full-force into the back of the cub's head with a thudding impact; then the other fist hammers forward to provide insurance.

"Ah'shit." Jeremy murmurs as he bolts off to the side, reaching into his jacket and whipping out a taser. He takes a deep breath, knowing Salem will most likely handle this in about five seconds. But, to be on the safe side.

Rina is already stepping back from the attempt--getting some distance.

Joshua's momentum is killed as Salem 'one two's him. The first blow starts to knock him down, before the one to the gut knocks the cub backwards judiciously . Like a sack of bricks, he thuds into the overturned chair: the legs cracking as the break under his weight, stopping the fall. The world fades out for Doyle, as he shifts back to Human form: on the floor, butt-naked, tangled up on top part of the chair. Talk about your bad days.

Scar shifts down to Glabro, grimacing as he picks up the boy's limp form. He shoots a glare over his shoulder to Rina, and then carries Joshua back to the couch, settling him down and draping a throw blanket over him.

Rina rakes her trembling hand back through her hair, and lets out a breath. "Jesus. It's late."

Rina pages to the room: Hrm. Well, I'm going to have to run soon... so rather than sit here spoofing Salem, I can wait and see if Jer comes back. And Salem will be back shortly, so he can deal with Joshua some when he wakes up. Also, since all of this was happening obscenely late last night, we can just fastforward; Joshua would have been installed in a room of the house, and he could have just slept through the night, if you want to do that. Your call whether you want to go to the next day (today), or stay here... either way it
Rina pages to the room: ...it's prolly Salem or Rina or Leala, who would be there when he wakes up.