"You're going to give me an ego."

[hazlogs]

It is currently Feb 3 2004.  Night-time.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Full Moon phase (88% full).

Cockroach Mansion -- Elder's Office

Salem's office is an extension of the same elegant display of wealth which
      characterizes the rest of the mansion. Most noticeable, from the doorway 
      in the southern wall, is the large black-veined white marble fireplace 
      taking up half of the northern part of the room, contrasting sharply with 
      the ebony-paneled walls. A rug of forest green carpets the floor from 
      wall to wall, while red velvet frames the wall of windows to the west.
The other decor is typical of the private office of a wealthy, old-world
      businessmen, from the ponderous mahogany desk along the eastern wall and 
      the equally heavy chairs set before them, to the brass and glass 
      chandelier dangling from the ceiling. A reproduction of Van Gogh's 
      _Starry Night_ hangs above the fireplace, and the bookshelves behind the 
      desk are, so far, nearly empty.
A door at the far end of the office leads into an adjoining bedroom and
      bathroom. This door is usually kept closed.

There is light, dim and strange, coming from his office.

Salem, returning home from the Bawn, frowns. He's a meticulous man in many
      ways, and he knows he turned off all the lights and extinguished the fire 
      before he'd left... Cautiously, he turns the door handle and enters.

Rina sits in one of the chairs, the laptop sitting on the surface of the desk
      in front of her. She has apparently fallen asleep, her head lolling, chin 
      resting on one shoulder.

Her screensaver swooshes merrily about, little colored lights orbiting each
      other.

Salem blinks, then smiles fondly. He slips over, his steps quiet on the forest
      green carpet, and ruffles her hair -- rather like he would Cat's.

With a little whimper, she wakes, her eyes opening to mere slits. She
      straightens, tipping her head back and craning her neck to look at him. 
      "Ummm... hey," she murmurs drowsily.

Salem's smile takes on a sardonic edge, but in his gaze is a warm amusement
      overlaying the full-moon tension. "Waiting up?"

"I tried," she mumbles, ducking her head sheepishly. "You weren't around, so..."

The smile fades somewhat. "Yes. Went out to the caern with Signe and Jean.
      Stopped by the farmhouse first to have a little... chat... with Jarred." 
      Nose wrinkling, he prowls over to the fireplace and starts the process of 
      getting a blaze going.

Rina's expression shifts toward distaste, and she gets more comfortable in her
      chair, crossing one knee over the other. "Great."

"I didn't tell you about that, did I?" His back is to her, muscles shifting
      under the plain white cotton t-shirt. "Bastard tried to pull a Rolling 
      Donut with Joshua and me."

She frowns. "Rolling do what?"

Salem smiles humorlessly. "You don't know that one? Old Sept history." He gets
      a small flame going and nurtures it carefully. "Long time ago, there was 
      a Silver Fang Elder named Justice. Traditionalist bitch, apparantly. And 
      she had a cub who was, mm, slow and having trouble dealing with the whole 
      snarl froth et cetera. So she was thinking of having the Rite of the 
      Stolen Wolf done on him, so he could live out his life as, well... the 
      equivalent of kin, I suppose." The tiny flame catches hold and 
      stabilizes; he sits back on his heels, watching it pensively for a moment 
      before continuing.

Rina frowns, and leans forward a little.

"The cub, of course, wasn't sure about this, so he went and asked several other
      elders. They told him not to undergo the Rite. One elder, an Uktena named 
      Stormcrow, went a bit further than that." Salem straightens up and turns 
      to face her, hands vanishing into the pockets of his black jeans. "He 
      made the cub promise to answer his elder with the following _exact_ 
      words. 'Take a flying fuck at a rolling donut.' And that's exactly what 
      the cub did... being a dutiful cub, if not a very intelligent one."

"Jesus," Rina murmurs, wincing slightly. "Did she kill him or what?"

"She tried to," he says, nose wrinkling. "She tried to cull him right then, on
      the spot. The Uktena pulled the cub's ass from the fire... luckily for 
      him."

Rina's brow furrows, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and
      studying the carpet. "So, what, did Jarred persuade Joshua to be an idiot 
      and backtalk you or somethin'?"

Salem shakes his head. "He did, though, convince the boy to deliver some potent
      insults." His lips thin into a grimace. "All because I'd _mentioned_ to 
      Joshua that the Stolen Wolf existed as an _option_. That, fuck me, it 
      might make him _happier_. And, naturally, our little Ahroun decided to 
      interpret that as gospel and that this was exactly what was going to be 
      done to him, period."

No longer able to remain still, she is propelled out of her chair to pace the
      room fiercely. "You gotta be fucking /kidding/ me," she snaps. "Fucking 
      Jarred probably /convinced/ the kid. Christ, we should /fucking/ kill 
      that goddamn asshole Shadow Lord son of a bitch--" She lashes out with a 
      boot, knocking the chair over. "How DARE he?"

Salem tenses, muscles clenching in his jaw. "Easy..." he mutters, warningly.
      "Jarred is an asshole, and a smarmy little coward as well. We had... 
      words."

She stills, an open hand drawn back stiffly for a moment before she can throw
      away her anger with a gesture. "/Fuck/ him," she mutters darkly. "Good."

Salem grunts. He leans against the side of the fireplace and folds his arms
      across his chest. His head lowers, his scarred face turning pensive. 
      "Managed to corner him in front of Megan, some other new Shadow Lord who 
      looked like some little abuse-me faggot," -- the casual crudity is 
      indicative of how angry he is underneath the facade of pensive calm -- 
      "Signe, Jean, couple others... Anyway. I challenged the bastard."

Rina turns to look to him, her expression clearing quite suddenly. "Fuck," she
      says quietly, and then she moves to lean on the edge of the desk with 
      both hands.

Salem exhales air noisily. "Don't worry," he says, rather sourly. "It's not
      fatal. It's not even dangerous. And I can beat it quite... easily, and 
      make him apologize publically and show his goddamned throat. But it won't 
      be pleasant."

She nods, guardedly. "You won't get hurt?"

Salem grimaces, looking away toward the curtained window. "Only my pride. And
      not even that, if I manage things... just right."

There's an unspoken 'maybe' in his voice.

"Anything I can do to help?" she asks hoarsely.

Salem looks back at her, at the expression on her face, and smiles in a
      bitterly self-deprecating kind of way. "Not necessary. It's... simple, 
      really. I just have to get up at the next Moot, a week from now, and tell 
      a story. Two of them, really. Why I'm not a Shadow Lord anymore... and 
      why I'm not an Ahroun."

Rina swallows, and lowers her eyes. "Oh," she says weakly, leaning against the
      desk. Then, softer, "Wish I could be there."

The bitter smile twists into a grimace; if she knows anything about him, she
      knows how much he _hates_ exposing himself, loathes dragging out his 
      dirty laundry even in front of _family_. "I'll tell you afterward, 
      sometime," he says gratingly. "You'll get the good version, even. My 
      punishment doesn't lift until _after_ the Moot."

Wincing, she ducks her head. "Sucks," she murmurs. "Well... if it helps,
      I'll... be thinking of you."

Salem inhales a breath and lets it out, slowly. "I know. And I appreciate it."
      Rubbing a hand over his face, he stalks over behind the desk -- still 
      showing the scars from the incident with Renee -- and sinks down into the 
      big chair.

"I was thinkin' tonight... sitting here, I mean." She looks across to him,
      cautiously. "D'you want a new desk?"

He gives her a surprised blink. "I... suppose, yes." He looks down at the big,
      scarred chunk of polished mahogany, dark eyebrows drawing together. "I 
      hadn't thought of it... but yes."

Rina flashes a smile, then. "Maybe we can go out and look, next week."

He returns it faintly. "That'd be pleasant."

Rina drops into her chair, studying the floor. "Yeah. I know some good places
      to look." She chews on her lower lip, and glances to him nervously.

Salem nods slowly, one hand absently running along the edge of the desk, and
      then peers at her. "...What?"

She chews on her lower lip, and shakes her head. "Just..." Lifting her head,
      she looks across to him worriedly. "Just get through it, okay?" A faint 
      half-smile. "We need you."

Salem grimaces. "Since the alternative is baring throat to the likes of
      _Jarred_..." He exhales air in a sharp huff, the sound almost lupine. 
      "I'll get through it."

One corner of her smile quirks upward, just a little. "You know... you're
      somethin' esle."

He knows it's a compliment, or takes it as such at least, but his faint smile
      has more than a touch of bemusement. "You say that a lot, you know. 
      You're going to give me an ego."

Her smile deepens just as little. "Seems to be a better strategy than throwing
      myself at you."

Salem's mouth twists into one of those characteristic wry smirks. "Better
      strategy for what, exactly?"

"Letting you know I care," she answers, flashing a brief grin. She reaches
      forward to close the laptop, shutting away its light. "Sokay if I stay 
      upstairs, tonight?"

The smirk widens into a pleased, warm smile. "You don't even have to ask."

"Thanks," she answers, moving in the dark. She gives his shoulders a quick hug,
      and plants a kiss on his rather stubbly cheek. "Night, hon."

Salem holds still for it, his smile suddenly tight. Luna's bitch. Still, his
      return, "Good night," is sincere in its warmth, and there's no doubt that 
      he's glad she's staying at Roach Manor tonight.

She leaves quietly, snagging her laptop on the way and carrying it upstairs.