"As for Josh, I'm giving him a chance."

[hazlogs]

It is currently 08:54 Pacific Time on Fri Feb 6 2004.
Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (97% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 48 degrees
      Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      south at 17 mph, with gusts up to 30 mph. The barometric pressure reading 
      is 29.96 and falling, and the relative humidity is 73 percent. The 
      dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.)

Dominion Estate
The Dominion estate spreads out over a small hill, giving the mansion built at
      the peak a view of the surrounding suburban countryside. The snow-covered 
      lawn is dotted with statuary and encircled by hedges grown up to hide the 
      stone wall which surrounds the estate. A gravel driveway snakes 
      elliptically up from the front gate northward to the house, east from 
      there to the garage, then back towards the front gate. Preparations for 
      some sort of garden have been made on the western slope of the hill.
The house itself is old and appears to have had had work done it over the
      years. The original, main part of the house is made of gray stone and 
      reaches four stories high with the tower. The east and west wings appear 
      newer and are made of brick and wood. The previous decay and disrepair 
      can still be seen, but there also seems to have been some effort put into 
      fixing the place up.

After parking the car out front, Alicia heads for the front gate, reaching out
      and pressing the buzzer.
As it happens, the man of the house is already outside, doing something under
      the hood of the rust-orange Yugo. He straightens up, looking down toward 
      the gate, then picks up a rag and starts down the long driveway to let 
      her in, wiping his hands as he does so.
Patiently waiting behind the gate, Alicia folds her hands behind her back,
      brushing back the folds of her white coat. She offers up a bright smile 
      at the sight of Salem. "Hey there big S. Whats up with the car? Need some 
      help on that?"
Salem shakes his head, then activates the gate control so that the Child of
      Gaia can come in. On the street behind her, a middle-aged man with a 
      husky goes jogging past, giving the pair a quick, wary look. Once 
      Alicia's within the confines of the gate, Salem closes it again and then 
      gestures her to follow as he heads back up the drive toward the house.
Heading past the gate, Alicia follows him from behind, stiffling a yawn in the
      back of her throat. She shrugs a shoulder upwards, glancing over to the 
      Yugo for a moment, then lets her gaze drift about the rest of the grounds.
The Yugo is as it always is -- boxy, ugly, unimpressive, and looking fairly out
      of place in the posh surroundings and next to the shinier vehicles that 
      the rest of the tribe seems to favor. Whatever work Salem was doing on it 
      seems to be finished, though, except for the gathering of rachets and 
      trash. This Jack does, then opens the front door, letting Alicia go in 
      first.

Cockroach Mansion -- Downstairs
The heavy, dark opulence to this mansion known as Dominion is perfectly
      exemplified by the room vistors first enter, this front hall. 
      Dark-stained wood serves as paneling on the walls, gleams with high gloss 
      in the hardwood floor, and supports a semi-circular balcony in carved 
      pillars. The heavy double doors, made of oak, open into the hall from the 
      south, opposite the huge, hourglass-shaped staircase composed of red and 
      black gneiss which soars up to the balcony; both are fenced in with a 
      wooden railing of simple spiraled posts. Several doorways can be made out 
      on the second floor, nearly blending in discreetly with the back wall. 
      The wall to the left of the front doors is composed entirely of windows 
      which run from the forty-foot-tall domed dark wood ceiling to the floor; 
      if drawn, the heavy velvet drapes of deep red would completely mask them 
      from view, but when parted, as they often are, one has a marvelous view 
      of the grounds outside.
A doorway to the right of the front doors leads to a parlor, and towards the
      back are the kitchens, the large dining room, and Salem's office.
Obvious exits:
Tower  Stairway  Salem's Office  Parlor  Front Doors  

Alicia glances around the mansion and lets out a breath. "This place always
      makes my jaw drop when I walk inside." She says, spinning around slowly, 
      taking in the detail. "Its cool."
Salem, with the door closed behind them, finally speaks, a curt and
      near-squeaking, "Thanks." After close to two months of this, it's almost 
      difficult to remember what he _used_ to sound like. He hangs up his coat 
      in the front hall closet, then gestures toward the parlor. "Have a seat. 
      Or is this a private conversation?"
The Gaian doesn't even flinch at the sound of his voice, for she knows all too
      well what that is like. After glancing about, Alicia flops down into a 
      chair, drawing her knee up to her chest as she leans against it, offering 
      a quick grin to him. "Its not a private conversation. Mostly just a 
      random Galliard visit."
Salem gives her a tight, full-moon-tense, smile. "Let me get you a drink then.
      Coffee? Water?"
Alicia shakes her head. "I'm fine, really." She says, beaming with a bright
      smile upon her face.
Salem arches one eyebrow a bit, then shrugs and settles down into his usual
      chair, more or less facing the Child of Gaia. "So. What's up?"
Alicia shrugs her shoulders a bit and glances around the mansion again. "Well.
      I have taken over pack leader of RAT, now that Renee has left the city to 
      fix herself upstairs."
At mention of the Gnawer Galliard's name, Salem's expression, not particularly
      warm to begin with, cools even more. "Renee's gone?" His eyes narrow. 
      "What about the cub?"
"Craig is taken care of the cub, and he is scoping out a place on the Bawn to
      take her, now that she is getting older. I suggested to him the compound, 
      since its a good refuge." Alicia admits. "Renee is going to come back, 
      she says. Its just that she needs some time to herself to.. get her head 
      on straight. I tried to convince her to stay, but she wasn't having it."
K. C., hearing voices, wanders in. She takes a breath to say something, then
      stops herself, smiles a little, and says, "Sorry, didn't mean to 
      interrupt."
Salem glances up, then waves the other Philodox to a chair, vaguely. "It's not
      a private conversation. Feel free." Then he turns to Alicia, lips 
      thinned. "Craig'd better talk to the Guardians, then, and whoever's 
      Warder now that Robert's gone. Megan, at least. See how they feel about 
      it."
Alicia bobs her head. "I don't even think we got Guardians. We're just cycling
      out Garou month after month, volunteers. Ya'know? I've been practically 
      living at the Caern though for the past two months, helping to organize 
      the younger ones who want to help out, and I've been.. kinda doing the 
      Groundskeeping thing, except I can't really hop in the Umbra and help out 
      there. I was going to suggest to Trevor or Aubrey, that maybe they could 
      back me up on that." She furrows a brow. "No one even knows what the hell 
      happened to Robert, huh?" She asks, glancing over to KC and waves a hand. 
      "Hey sis. Whats up?"
Salem snorts. "Thought you'd know more," he grumbles, "being tribe to him. He
      didn't say anything?"
Alicia shakes her head. "Soon as Andrea took off.. I saw him like.. once.. then
      after that.. he quit showing up. I searched the Umbra and couldn't find 
      him either. He is a good hider or something, but he left no path to 
      follow."
K. C. crosses over to sink into a chair. Her eyebrows lift a little, but she
      leans back in the chair and says, "Hello. Just thought I'd check in 
      before I went to work."
"Haven't seen much of you," the Walker Elder remarks, head cocked to eye K. C.
      "Working keeping you busy?"
Alicia turns her head to face the younger half moon, getting comfy in her
      chair. She offers up a quick smile to her.
K. C. mmns. "It goes in waves. Sometimes it's a light month, sometimes it's
      not. This happens to be a not."
Salem just nods to this, though his gaze lingers on his tribesmate, keen and
      sharp. After a moment, he turns back to Alicia. "How's Josh?"
Alicia rolls her shoulders. "I don't know 'bout him. Either he's on or he's
      off. He confuses me to no point. I don't know what to make of him, 
      honestly."
"Then that makes two of us," K. C. says. "I should go out and talk to him
      again, I suppose."
Salem's lip curls into a grimace at Alicia's words, then nods to K. C. "Be my
      guest. I'm sending him on his Rite soon. With Cat and Signe's cub Emma." 
      The Walker's tone, underneath the grating, nasal quality, is grim.
"Why?" Alicia asks, rather bluntly.
K. C.'s eyebrows lift. "You think he's ready for his Rite?"
"It's either that or cull him," Salem replies, just as bluntly as Alicia. He
      pushes up out of his chair and paces across toward the curtained windows. 
      "Little bastard goes back and forth. First it was the escape attempts. 
      Then the crap about demons. The obsession with ghosts. Then this _thing_ 
      where his wolf keeps taking him over. Jacinta _thinks_ she's fixed that, 
      but every fucking time it's one step forward, one step back. Or more." 
      Stopping, he turns back, folding his arms across his chest and framed 
      against the heavy curtains. "He _isn't_ ready," he says, answering K. 
      C.'s question. "Whether or not he survives is dependent on whether he can 
      get his fucking shit together." His lips thin. "I doubt he will."
It is, perhaps, the longest speech he's made since the Judgement nearly two
      months ago, and the cracking, nasal tones aren't helping his temper any.
"So, you are going to send him in there after a month, to die? Salem. That'd be
      jeopardizing both Cat and Emma, don't you think? What if he freaks out?" 
      Alicia thins her lips in a frown, letting out a breath. "If you are going 
      to cull him, then.. do it. But you can't expect him to go out there and 
      become a GlassWalker without knowing how to be one, regardless of how 
      much of a fuck up he is."
Salem's upper lip curls, showing a flash of teeth. "Cat and Emma I'm not
      worried about. As for Josh, I'm giving him a chance. A fucking _slim_ 
      chance, but one nonetheless."
K. C.'s attention shifts from Salem to Alicia and she considers a while before
      she says, "With all due respect, knowing how to be a Glass Walker and 
      growing up are not the same thing. The cub could use more lessons, I'm 
      sure of that. But we don't have time to coddle a boy who can't see that 
      being a child has to end. And temper tantrums and 'I can't help its' are 
      either childish, or damaged." She looks at Salem again. "I'll talk to 
      him."
Salem gives his tribesmate a curt but approving nod. "I'd rather see him grow
      the fuck up and pass," he grates, scowling. "We need soldiers. But I'm 
      not holding my breath."
Alicia looks to be having a hard time biting her lip, but, she does it well.
      She simply leans back and stares at the ceiling.
K. C. says "He was willing -- well. Passably willing, at least, to listen to
      lessons once. Has he learned when to keep quiet yet?""
Salem shrugs. "He can shut up, yes. He can't quite _listen_, though."
Alicia lets out a soft breath, then sinks forward some in her seat.
Salem unfolds his arms and begins pacing again, past the big high-definition
      television and back.
K. C. glances between the two others, takes a breath and climbs to her feet.
      "Well, then. I'll head out after work."
"Alrightie, take care of yourself KC." Alicia says with a soft breath.
Salem pauses to give K. C. a glance and a nod. Even a thin, tight little smile.
      "Good. Thanks."
Alicia glances over towards Salem after a moment.
Salem meets Alicia's eyes and frowns, holding her gaze. "...What."
"Do you want me to take him off your hands and give it a try?" Alicia finally
      says with a sigh. "Hell. If I could straighten out Karl, I'm sure Josh 
      would be a vacation. I'm willing to help out."
"Absolutely not," Salem says, without hesitation and with a flash of teeth. "He
      was born a Walker. He'll live a Walker, or _die_ a Walker."
Alicia rubs her eyebrow some, then shrugs. "Alright. Thats cool." She says
      softly, then tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, lets stop 
      talking about him. Change of subject... I hear you got a new pack up in 
      the works."
Salem returns to prowling restlessly, pushing his hands into the pockets of his
      black jeans. He nods. "Me. Signe. Cutter. Jean, and Charlie."
"Two ShadowLords, A Get, a Fianna, and a Lord turned Walker. Wow." Alicia says
      with a wry grin. "If more packs like this keep popping up, you are going 
      to put my tribe out of buisness."
Salem smirks thinly. "Wouldn't it be a _good_ thing, though? But don't hang up
      your hat until you see me packing with Leonard and Jarred." His good eye 
      glints dangerously.
"Don't worry, I don't think Malfeas is going to freeze up anytime soon." Alicia
      ventures with a nod of her head, chuckling. "I wouldn't pack with either 
      of them as well. I can only hug so many trees before my patience wears 
      out."
Salem looks amused, but doesn't laugh. No surprise there. "How's RAT, without
      Renee?"
"They are getting back on their feet. I talked with Craig and Lyra and they are
      having a Gnawer moot t'night. I guess Craig is in charge of the family. I 
      told 'em I want to get together later and have a pack meeting, and start 
      getting shit rolling again. We got some messes to clean up.. the Katanas 
      is one of them, which is what I was going to bring up with you." The 
      Gaian explains. "They are still holed up in that warehouse, and I got 
      exits and entry points scouted out. With two packs, we can go in from 
      above and in the front."
Salem's eyes narrow thoughtfully. "Should get a Ragabash to do another
      scouting. They might have changed things."
Alicia bobs her head. "I got wind from our Corax buddy that they are still
      there. I also made sure that there isn't any cameras on the roof, but, 
      she believes there is some in the near by area. I was thinking that maybe 
      you with your super uber Glass Walker powers could help out in that 
      regard, right?" She asks, leaning forward a bit. "And, I already spoke 
      with Craig on doing the scout thing. Ganna see if he, Yi an Helen are up 
      for a task."
Salem's lips thin. His eyes are still narrowed. "All right. See what we can do."
Alicia bobs her head a bit and grins. "Awesome." She twists her head a bit,
      popping a few joints. "So, everything alright with you?"
Salem shows his teeth in something that's not quite a smile. "Less than a week
      to go," he says in those high, nasal tones.
Alicia gives him a thumbs up. "That rocks. After that, you wanna get something
      to drink, have a night out an celebrate a moment put behind us?"
"Sounds like an idea. Moon'll be thinner, too." The Walker prowls over toward
      the window again and leans against the wall near it.
"If it means anything Salem.. despite what went down, I don't blame you for
      what you did. You are a good judge and Half Moon, and I respect your 
      decisions." Alicia calls over from her spot in the chair.
"Appreciate that," the Glass Walker murmurs. Then he changes the subject.
      "How's Tom?"

[FTB.  Idle chit-chat ICly.  Later...]

It is currently 17:30 Pacific Time on Fri Feb 6 2004.

In what has to be a conscious effort to mock stereotypes, there's a girl
      wearing an oversized yellow jacket and carrying plastic bags, presumably 
      full of Chinese food that say 'HAVE A NICE DAY'. "Delivree," she chirps 
      happily, pressing the buzzer several times. Bzzbzzzbzzz. "Delivreee."
Salem peers at the image on the monitor, then snorts and goes to activate the
      gate. It swings open silently to allow the Gnawer girl in, and the man of 
      the house meets her at the door, arms folded across his chest and one 
      eyebrow raised.

She's five feet four inches, black hair and smooth, lightly golden skin. Her
      eyes are almond shaped and hazel, hinting at Chinese ancestry. She's 
      slender and lithe, and not fierce-looking; instead, she radiates 
      'brittle'. Yet for those of weaker willpower, she's somehow still 
      intimidating, the way some people have an irrational fear of dolls. She's 
      no child, but on the brink of adulthood, somewhere around sixteen or 
      seventeen, maybe. There's a small scar underneath her left eye, pale, 
      starting from the corner and going down like a tear.
	Lyra's hair is long and pulled back, loosely tied with old green ribbons.
      She's wearing a soft, warm blue shirt underneath an oft-bleached white 
      sweatshirt with rabbit ears sewn on the hood. An old brown cloth bag is 
      tied around her waist, sagging with the weight of some small cargo. Her 
      jeans are worn and faded with holes at the knees, her sneakers are blue 
      with white stripes and faded, the ratty laces knotted tight.

Lyra smiles self-deprecatingly, offering the bags to Salem. They're actually
      full of apples, and one bag is several Tupperware containers of lo mein. 
      "Pretty sure it isn't poisoned," she adds softly. "Auntie made it, and I 
      bagged."
Salem smiles thinly as he ushers her into the big house. "Funny, but the _last_
      time I specifically invited a Gnawer into my home..." The high, grating 
      voice has a tight, sardonic edge. Still, invite her in he does, and takes 
      the proffered bags, carrying them toward the kitchen.
The Gnawer trails after him hesitantly, almost like she was afraid to get too
      close and pop his 'personal space bubble'. "If for some reason I wanted 
      to do you in," Lyra thinks out loud, "It'd make more sense for me to do 
      it outside in the city, on my turf- not yours. Granted, your guard is 
      down here-" she makes little hand motions while she talks "-or would've 
      been, if you hadn't been attacked here. So more than likely, you're 
      extra-aware of every movement I make because I'm a Gnawer, just like 
      Renee." The girl smiles sadly. "Thought you knew me better than that, 
      rhya."
"I do," comes the reply. "That's why I let you in." He glances back at her, his
      mismatched eyes shrewd, and smiles tightly.
In the kitchen, he waves her toward a seat at the big (but not _too_ big)
      wooden table and starts putting away the food. Lo mein into the fridge, 
      apples to the hanging fruit basket by the windows.
She hops up to a seat and props her chin in her hands, watching him with a very
      bemused look. "I don't know how to shoot a gun," Lyra offers, by way of 
      consolation.
Salem takes one of the apples that Lyra brought and polishes it off on the tail
      of his shirt. "You should," he grates in the Jackal's voice. "It's a 
      useful skill." Leaning back against the counter, he takes a bite out of 
      the apple and looks at her expectantly.
"'M too clumsy. I'd shoot my foot off, or forget it on the bus- something like
      that." Lyra pauses. Blinks. And covers her eyes with her hand.
Salem's mouth twitches, not quite a smile. "So what brings you?"
"I can't believe I forgot that goddamn vow of silence," the Gnawer mumbles. "I
      knew I had to come here in homid, but I wasn't going to talk just walk in 
      and wait for the door to close and now here I am rambling like some damn 
      fool." She slumps forward with her head in her arms, hazel eyes blinking 
      petulantly up at Salem. "You were right to laugh at me."
Salem's eyebrows lift. "Who's laughing?" He starts bringing the apple back to
      his mouth for another bite, but adds, first, "Go ahead and shift, if you 
      want."
Tinged with embarrassement, the red just swims down her cheeks and all over as
      she shifts down, disappearing under the table for a moment. Four-Leaves 
      trots around it to the entrance to the kitchen and takes a seat, tail 
      over prim toes. There was to be a Moot tonight, for the Ratchildren, but 
      things came up and people went elsewhere, the lupus explains. When it 
      does happen, if it does, Takes-Chances will ask if anyone wants to 
      challenge him for eldership.
Salem frowns around a mouthful of apple. Swallowing, he asks, "Takes-Chances?"
Four-Leaves' right ear swivels. He goes by Snake-Bait now. He is Squeaks'
      father.
"Ah," Salem says. "Think anyone will?" He takes another bite from the apple.
Both ears lay back, and the wolf looks distressed. I don't know. When I met
      with him after Mama Eyes' departure, I told him that I -might- Challenge 
      him. If I felt he was not doing what needed to be done. But since Mama 
      Eyes had placed her trust in him, I would not Challenge him just for the 
      sake of being elder. He seemed...irritated. And when I saw Fat-Ripper, 
      she was very cold. She told me about the Moot, and then made it clear if 
      I weren't to come, it wouldn't make a difference. Four-Leaves lies down, 
      paw over paw. I don't want to Challenge and have it seen as a move to 
      give myself power.
Salem wrinkles his nose. "If you don't think he's doing what needs to be done,
      you _should_ challenge him," the Walker says, with barely a pause when 
      his voice cracks in the middle of 'challenge'. "But if you're not sure... 
      you're right not to." He shrugs. "It doesn't sound to me as if you've 
      acted wrongly."
The wolf perks up noticeably at that, tailtip twitching. Sometimes I wish I had
      come to your Family, Four-Leaves chuffs lowly. When Three-Blades was 
      around, or Dancing-Fighter, I was less of an outsider. But now I'm a 
      stranger. Fat-Ripper acted as if I would hurt Squeaks. The halfmoon 
      radiates Indignation, sorrow. I was there when she was -born.- Mama Eyes 
      used to let me babysit. I wouldn't ever hurt her.
Salem's mouth twists into a scowl. "Olga doesn't know what the fuck she's
      talking about, half the time," he says irritably.
Four-Leaves just lies there quietly. After a moment- perhaps remorseful that
      she's been 'whining' -she adds, Well, it's good that she's protective of 
      Squeaks, at least. Everyone's a little less trustful these days. She 
      turns her head, eyeing the tip of her tail, and then deliberately 
      captures the end in her teeth and starts to groom. For such a 
      sketchy-looking man, a lot of people trust you, the Gnawer observes 
      cheerfully.
Salem arches a brow. "You think so?" He takes a final bite or two from the
      apple and then pitches the core expertly into the waiting trash can.
Look in a mirror lately? Four-Leaves teases. Licking her tail into slick and
      straight order, she continues, Yes, I think so. 'Nee trusted you for a 
      long time. Three-Blades trusts you. Mama Ears an' Bridge-Mender did. Your 
      Family trusts you. The Sept trusts you. The only people who don't are 
      people like Storm-Singer, and it's his job to not trust anyone.
Salem snorts, arms folding across his chest. "Yes, well." He shrugs, then frees
      a hand to scratch at his clean-shaven chin. "I admit to being a bit more 
      reliable than I used to be."
The red wolf just grins. You're blushing.
Salem's eyebrows lift. "I'm _what_?" The nasally voice cracks on the second
      word.
Four-Leaves barks, a lupine giggle, and wags her tail happily. Pardon rhya, I
      wasn't being polite. She cants her head, laughing eyes becoming solemn. I 
      heard Pip was in town, she chuffs softly. But he's gone again now, isn't 
      he.
Salem nods. "Went back to L.A. He wasn't here long." The Walker shrugs.
The red wolf nods, a motion very out of place. I'm sure he's happier there, she
      rumbles. I hope that he is. Four-Leaves gets to all fours, stretching out 
      her back and flicking ears experimentally. I won't keep more of your 
      time, Scar-rhya. Thankyou for talking to me.
Salem bends down to ruffle Lyra's ears. "Always a pleasure, Lyra. Oh, and
      here." Straightening up, he reaches into a narrow cabinet near the fridge 
      and gets out a large rawhide bone, the kind sized for Great Danes. "Here. 
      For the pup."
Four-Leaves grins, prancing in a circle after the ruffle and shifting back to
      homid. She takes the bone and sticks it into the rainjacket's pocket, 
      where the yellow rayon instantly sags with weight. "She'll love it," Lyra 
      mouths, smiling broadly. Even if the words don't get across, the message 
      might.
Salem gives the younger Philodox a faint smile and escorts her back to the
      door. "Hope so."
Waving at Salem, the delivery girl scampers away from the dominion. He might
      see her reach the street and then disappear into the traffic of 
      sidewalkers and concrete walls.