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.
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