It is currently 18:52 Pacific Time on Sun Feb 15 2004.
Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent Moon phase (33% full).
Currently in Saint Claire, it is partially cloudy. The temperature is 51
degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The
barometric pressure reading is 30.02 and falling, and the relative
humidity is 60 percent. The dewpoint is 38 degrees Fahrenheit (3 degrees
Celsius.)
Cockroach Mansion -- Downstairs(#4100R)
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.
Salem comes of out his office looking pensive and preoccupied as he prowls
through the house and toward the parlor.
Natalie quicksteps down the steps, swings around the last baluster and has to
pull up short before charging into the man of the house. "Oh! Sorry,
um... I didn't see you there." Obviously. She runs a hand through her
hair, wondering, "Did you, um, get that note I left for you? About the
greenhouse?"
Salem pulls up short and peers at her for a moment before smiling faintly. "I
did. And I was thinking freestanding myself, actually... but why the
octagonal?" His tone's more curious than critical.
Natalie shrugs, her eyes flicking past him to the kitchen and back. "Just like
the look of it better. The rectangular's more traditional, of course.
Octagonal kinda brings up aviaries, to my mind. English gardens,
peacocks, all that. Titch more exotic."
Salem nods slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Hmm. I like that. Have you eaten?"
Obviously, he's noticed her glance.
"Huh?" Her eyes meet his for a second, then drop. "Oh yeah, I have. I was just
thinking about hunting up some popcorn, or something. Maybe see about a
movie. This place is too... too quiet. I thought I was the only one here."
Salem grunts. "The one real problem with this large a house. But call me
optimistic. Met any more of the family yet?"
Natalie bobs her head, a hand still resting on the bannister. "Yup. Jeremy -
and there's a poster boy for geek if I've ever seen one - and Anthony. He
talk to you about Chiminage yet? Oh, and Signe stopped by, um...
Thursday. She didn't stay long."
Salem makes an 'eh' sort of noise when Anthony's chiminage is mentioned, then
raises a brow at mention of Signe. "Ah, the Get?"
Natalie says "Yup. She seemed kinda, mmm, surprised when I said you'd talked to
me about packing. I told her I wanted to at least meet everybody first
before trying to decide. The, um, greenhouse thing might be good for
that. Like an Amish barn-raising, y'know? Only it'd be a Garou
greenhouse." She offers up a small smile for the weak joke. "We could
even wear the hats."
Salem snorts, sounding amused. "No hats." He's about to say more when the gate
buzzer sounds, and murmurs, "Excuse me," instead and wanders over toward
the front entryway to glance at the monitor. "Ah. Speak of the devil," he
says, and activates the gate.
Natalie turns to watch expectantly, but doesn't leave her post near the bottom
of the stairs. "How 'bout the overalls then?"
Salem gives Natalie a strange look as he opens the door for the Get Ahroun.
"Tell you what. I won't _forbid_ anyone to dress in hats and overalls..."
Signe greets Salem with a nod as she steps in. "Hey. Who's overalls?" She looks
around, catching sight of Natalie. "Ah, hi."
Natalie grins easily at him, but doesn't press the issue. "Fair enough. Who's
at the door, anyway?"
"You should know, since you've met her." Salem closes the door behind Signe;
Natalie's over by the stairs. His gaze shifts from one to the other and
back again.
"Briefly," Signe admits, lifting a hand to greet Natalie with a wave. "But just
briefly. Galliard, right?"
Natalie lifts a hand to to Get. "Oh, sorry. H'lo, Signe. I was just trying to
convince Salem-rhya that we needed to wear Amish hats and overalls for
the greenhouse raising. Maybe just the Shadow Lords, though. What d'you
think?"
Salem smirks faintly. "I imagine Cutter would love that."
Signe smirks, slightly amused. "You can dress the Lords in tutus and leotards
if you want. Won't bug me."
"Galliard," Natalie confirms. "You can call me Nat, if you'd like. I was just
going to go make myself some popcorn and see what sort of DVDs we've
got." She tilts her head expectantly toward the parlor, including the
others in the invite.
Signe seems at least mildly enthused. "Grab me a beer while you're in the
kitchen?" she asks, turning back to Salem. "So, what's the news?"
Salem rubs the side of his neck, looking thoughtful. Considering. "Anything but
_The Matrix_," he mutters, and waves Natalie toward the kitchen with a,
"Popcorn's in the pantry." Then he turns toward Signe, grimaces slightly,
and precedes her into the parlor. "News? Well, I attempted to talk to
Joshua last night." The look on his face doesn't bode well.
Natalie gives Signe a thumb's up before heading kitchen-wards. Rattle-y noises
commence.
Signe grimaces at the idea. "Attempt? That doesn't sound good. what, the kid
start whining again?"
Salem settles into his usual chair with a grunt. "Something like that." His
voice turns mocking. "'Woe is me, my elder didn't wipe my ass for me when
I was cubnapped!' Feh." He shrugs. "I give up. I'm tired of trying to
deal with his angsty crap."
Signe shrugs, pulling up a chair for herself. "Well, you won't have to much
longer. He'll get it or he won't, and it'll be over. Right?" She puts her
feet up.
Salem stretches his legs with another grunt. "Yes." He shakes his head. "The
bitch of it is, I hope he _does_ pass. Not that he'd believe it."
In the kitchen, the whirr of the microwave quickly gives way to popping. It
sounds like Nat's doing some searching as well, opening cabinets and
drawers.
Signe shakes her head. "You really think that? That he thinks you want him to
fail?"
"I'm certain of it," the Walker Elder replies, flatly.
Signe leans back in her chair. "Well, I can't say I'm surprised. He's young and
stupid." She shrugs again, looking more closely at Salem. "Don't sulk.
It's not your fault."
Salem's eyebrows rise; he frowns minutely. "I wasn't sulking."
Signe flashes Salem a little smile.
Salem glowers for a moment, then snorts. "Well, I wasn't. I don't _sulk_. I
_brood_. There's a difference."
A few moments after the microwave bings! its finish Nat appears in the doorway
of the parlor with three bowls in her arms. "Gonna have to go back for
the beer," she says, crossing to offer her Elder first dibs. "Is there
anything in there off-limits?"
Signe can't help but offer up a rasped little chuckle. "Yeah, I've said the
same thing myself on occasion." Natalie's return draws her attention, and
she takes her own bowl in turn. "Thanks."
Salem sits up to take the proffered bowl. "Avoid anything with a name on it.
Bring in the _good_ beer for Signe and me... and whatever you want for
yourself."
"Gotcha." Natalie claims a chair for herself by placing her bowl on it, then
disappears back toward the kitchen. Such a good little serving wench.
Natalie pages: What -is- the good beer, anyway?
You paged Natalie with 'Imported, in glass bottles. Good German name. That sort
of thing.'.
Signe munches idly while Natalie returns to the kitchen. Eyeing Jack, she asks,
"So, how did you leave it with him?"
"Who, Joshua?" Salem shrugs. "Drove him back to the farmhouse, dropped him off.
Soon as I saw we weren't getting anywhere."
[...]
Natalie passes Signe in the hall as the Get's leaving, they exchange farewells
before the Galliard reappears in the doorway. "She didn't stay long.
Here's your beer." Three bottles are easier to carry than three bowls,
the necks clenched in her fingers. "So what was that about?"
Salem takes the beer with a nod of thanks and cracks it open. "Problem cub. Who
won't be one in a couple of weeks."
Natalie solves at least part of the problem of how to divide three beers
between two people by opening a bottle for herself. "Cub? That'd be,
either Cat, Katrine, or Josh, right?" She sits down, popcorn on her lap
and open bottle in one hand. "Jeremy told me about 'em. Um, Theurge,
Ahroun, and Galliard, if I remember."
"Joshua," Salem confirms. "The Ahroun. Haven't had much of a chance to sit down
with Katrine yet, and Cat..." He shrugs, taking a pull from his beer.
"Cat has issues, but he's as ready for Cliath as he'll ever be."
Natalie says "I think we've all got 'issues'," as she munches. "They're all out
on the Bawn, right? I'd like to meet 'em - Jeremy thinks me and Katrine
are going to be best buds, or something. But that, um..." My, popcorn is
a fascinating thing, isn't it? "Don't take this wrong, or anything."
"Cat's free to move between city and Bawn," Salem says, looking at her
curiously. "...Within the limitations of not having a car or knowing how
to drive yet. Why does Jeremy think you and Katrine will get along?"
"Frankly, I have no idea. Probably because we're both girls and Galliards.
Anyway, um, that's not what I was..." Popcorn also makes a good delaying
tactic too - but only for the time it takes to chew. Why couldn't it have
been taffy? "Back home, I'd've been sniffed for Taint and everything by
now. You just... run a looser ship?" Nat offers this explanation
hopefully.
Salem pops a kernal of popcorn into his mouth and looks at her with a quiet,
humorless little smile. "What makes you think you haven't been?"
Natalie regards him frankly. "Because usually there's some a person on the
other end, and you /notice/ it." She shrugs again, drops her eyes.
"Doesn't bother me, really, except I feel like I'm on probation, or
something. Maybe it's just self-inflicted, but there it is."
Salem drops the little smile and shrugs again, his manner cool. "You are... at
least until I get arrange for you to meet with the Sept Alpha." He sets
his popcorn bowl aside and toys with his beer bottle, rotating it.
Natalie nods ruefully. "Yeah, figured. So that brings me back to Chiminage -
which is something I -can- do. The big question is who's paying. After
that it's a matter of figuring out how the pieces fit." She aborts a
swig, eyes narrowing. "Did I tell you about the ranges I found for price
and size? I don't remember."
Salem shakes his head. "You didn't. As for who'll be paying the bill... I'm
still arranging for that." He takes a sip of beer.
Nat says, "Yeah, well, you got a lot of leeway. Anything from 70 bucks to about
29 thousand. Most of them seem to be anywhere from about fifteen hundred
to thirty-five. That gets you decent floorspace and polycarb walls. I'd
recommend going with those, 'cause they don't need to be babied like
glass does."
Salem's smile is faint but amiable. "Makes sense. May as well take advantage of
modern technology. Could hardly call ourselves Walkers if we didn't."
"Darn tootin'," the Galliard agrees. "Same vein, I'd argue for aluminum frames
instead of wood, and permanent instead of temporary. I've done a little
research on where it ought to be located, but final decision's up to you.
That's part of why I go for octagonal as well - since it's probably going
to be seen from the street. If we had five acres and could hide it behind
the bulk of the house, that's one thing."
"Put it behind the house, anyway," Salem muses. "The walls around the property
will keep most eyes at bay, though. And, yes, permanent." He shifts his
weight, sitting up a bit, eyes glinting. "Even with the few Garou that
are living here now, the place has a frightening reputation to the
neighbors, but it's _always_ had that. The previous owners were... not
good people. Nor the owners before that. A black history. Hence the
ghosts, I suppose." He shrugs, sits back to take another swig.
"Ultimately, I want this place to be made into a safe haven in the
city... on _both_ sides. The greenhouse is part of that. Come spring, I'd
also like to have some work done on the grounds." He grins faintly. "Have
you ever been to the tribe homeland?"
Natalie settles back into her chair and roots around for the last bits of
popcorn. "Never been that far in, no. We concentrated more on this side
of things - realmside, I mean - and just the other side of the Umbra."
She looks over, curious. "I dunno how much it would help, but what about
a cleansing? Even if we could just get a room where the ghosts couldn't
go, that'd be something. Or... must've been Jeremy who told me that the
ghosts are retreating here because of something even worse out," a hand
flip, "/there/?"
Salem hands over his bowl of popcorn and concentrates on his beer. "I still
think the ghosts are something... other. Outside our Tellurian, or some
such thing. When we moved in, there was no ghost activity, not noticeably
anyway, and the Umbra was... normal. About what you would expect for this
part of town. When the ghost activity was at its height, we had some
entities in the Umbra here gathering to feed on their pain. But they
weren't aggressive, and now that the ghosts have settled down again, they
seem to have wandered off." His mouth thins. "For whatever reason, this
area, in their plane of existence, is a haven and they can't survive for
long outside of it." A pause, and he adds, "Not that a Cleansing wouldn't
do the place good. Anything that channels positive energy into the area."
"I'd do it, if I knew it," the Galliard volunteers, accepting the popcorn with
a nod and smile. "Thanks. Or if someone's willing to teach me. I had some
Wiccan friends back home who tried to sell me on salt, but I'd think
sprinkling salt all over your house would do the opposite of cleaning it.
Or maybe it's supposed to be the vacuuming afterward that does the
cleansing. --What sort of entities? You ever get them identified?"
Salem swallows, then sucks on a tooth thoughtfully. "You'd have to ask Cutter.
Shadow Lord Theurge, one of the people I'll be packing with."
The front doors to the mansion open up and Jeremy heads inside, shaking some
wetness off his trench coat. "Hello?" He calls out through the mansion,
lugging a bag behind him that probably weighs as much as he does.
Salem glances up at the techigoth's voice and calls out, "In here, Jeremy."
Natalie says "I can do that." She and Salem are sitting in the parlor with beer
and, in Nat's case, popcorn. "Hey Jer! We're in here!" More quietly she
adds, "Anthony and I helped him unpack some spy gear on Friday. He's
given me some info on this Russian thing, but I don't know much in the
way of background. Something about a possible Veil breach?"
Nat offers this last -very- carefully.
Salem grimaces, then finishes the last of his bottle of beer. "Worse than that.
While most of the Russians are normal humans, they have something or
some_things_ supernatural and Wyrmy higher-up. And they're into some very
vile things, quite apart from being a danger to our little family here.
Many reasons to want them... purged."
Heading into the parlor, dragging the bag behind him, Jermey puffs out a
breath, releasing the straps. "Packed up and ready to go. Lee and I are
going to bug Boris's house and get everything tapp'd and what not. I got
the equipment set up in the van I rented."
Salem looks to Jeremy and nods, his expression somber. "Might be unnecessary to
say it, but... be careful tonight. I'm sure Roger would return from the
dead to throat me himself if anything happened to you." Touch of dark
humor.
"But first see if we can find out who knows what, and how much they know."
Natalie's approving. "Yeah, Jer, how are you getting him out of the
house? Just going to hope for luck, or what?"
"He's at a banquet tonight, entertaining guests for the weekend. He won't be
returning until late." Jeremy says with a nod of his head, offering up a
grin. "I got bored and pulled a few strings, paid off the right guy."
Salem chuckles briefly, though his mismatched eyes remain rather serious.
"Good."
Natalie adds more seriously, "Cockroach watch you. I got that CD you burned for
me, but I have to say it doesn't make much sense without the backstory.
I'll get that in a day or three, all right?"
Salem arches a brow. "CD?"
Jeremy tilts his head. "You know, of all that Russian stuff, the video that I
pulled. I showed her the info that I hacked off the FTP, see if she could
make heads or tails of it."
Natalie offers her half-full bowl of popcorn over for Jer to munch from. "Yup.
No new insights here, though, like I said. Maybe later something'll snap
into place."
Salem just nods slowly, his expression thoughtful.
Jeremy slips his black gloves off his hands and stuffs them into his pocket.
Reaching out, he takes a handful of popcorn, grinning at Natalie.
"Thanks. Hey, I gotcha something for yesterday, you too Salem."
Salem's eyebrows reach for his hairline again. "Oh?"
Natalie chimes in, "Yeah? What's that?"
Jeremy reaches over to the bag and opens it up, taking out a pair of chocolate
roses, with cards attached to them. He hands it over. "Happy Valentines
Day." He says, grinning wryly.
Natalie is, to say the least, bemused. "Ah... thanks, Jeremy." She glances
toward Salem, then gives the foil-wrapped rose the obligatory sniff
before planting it in her empty beer bottle. "I'll treasure it forever."
Salem accepts his with a rather strange look at the gothgeek. "...Thanks."
Jeremy chuckles slightly. "Yer' welcome. I got a buncha for everyone. Had a
close out deal at the ninety-eight cent store. So, don't feel too
special."
Natalie nods sagely and declaims, "Ah. Half price dollar roses. The true sign
of love and devotion." That doesn't stop her, however, from reading the
card.
Salem flips his card open as well, curiously, his scarred face a study of
bemusement.
Natalie's head tilts as she reads her card; from her expression it's hard to
tell if she's pleased or disturbed. "Well, thanks, Jeremy. Now I feel
like a complete heel. Tell you what, I'll make you a new bag of popcorn,
all right?"
Jeremy pages: Salem's card is of the Disney sort, the kind that shows a picture
of Aladdin and Jasmine on the front, sitting in front of that big tiger.
The back says: You're my favorite wish. Signed at the bottom, simply, Jer.
Salem wrinkles his nose a bit at his, then shakes his head. "You're getting
strange in your old age, Jeremy," he says dryly.
Jeremy chuckles slightly and rubs the back of his neck. "I broke up with
Aubrey." He admits softly, glancing up at them.
"Mine's Simba and Nala." Nat offers her card over for the Elder's delectation.
"Cripes, Jer, on Valentine's Day??"
"No. A few days ago." Jeremy says with a nod of his head.
Natalie pages: It's a picture of Simba and Nala with their muzzles pressed
together, their heads shaped like a heart. On the back is: You are my
Queen. Signed "Jer" at the bottom.
"A few days ago was right -before- Valentine's day," points out the knower of
such things with a shake of her head. "Sorry, Jer, no points for timing.
Good points for doing it, though."
Salem peers at Natalie's card briefly, then turns his eye toward the kin.
"Didn't work out, hm?"
Jeremy shakes his head. "She's an emotional leech and honestly.. um.." He
trails off a bit, then lets out a breath. "No, it wasn't working out. I
wasn't comfortable in the relationship."
Salem actually looks a little sympathetic as he shakes his head and offers up a
gruff, "Sorry to hear it."
Natalie's just all full of advice. "Don't rebound. She sounded emotionally
whacked from what you told me. But then again: Fianna, theurge. Either
one of those can be a little," she whistles the well-familiar 'cuckoo'.
She and the others are in the parlor.
Jeremy shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure what I'm looking for right now. I
just need to come back alive from t'night, you know?" He says with a
smile on his face, glancing between the pair. "So, Natalie, whatcha doing
this Friday?" He says in jest, elbowing her playfully.
Anthony lets himself in the front door and heads for the parlor, stripping off
his jacket along the way.
Salem smirks. He says nothing, just unwraps his chocolate rose and takes a bite
out of it.
Natalie gahs and whaps at Jeremy with her rose. "Rebound! Rebound! You're kin,
I'm Garou; you're supposed to /listen/ to me about these things!"
"I'm not asking you to marry me." Jeremy says with a laugh, pretending to
cringe from her. "Just wanting to know if you'd hang out with me."
Anthony walks into the parlor casually, leaving his jacket on the windowsill
like he usually does. "Yeah, and then he's going to ask you to marry
him," he comments with a wry smile.
"Depends on what the boss says." Yes, that's right, hide behind Salem's...
skirts. "Oh hey, Anthony." Time for a diversion to throw to the lions,
yes! "You ask Salem yet about the plumbing?" Retreat! Retreat!
Jeremy crosses his arms and smirks, glancing over towards Salem. "Salem Rhya,
Mister Don, can I go out with Natalie this Friday night?"
Salem glances up as Anthony enters, his gaze raking briefly over the New York
Walker before giving a thin smile. He swallows the bite of chocolate.
"Yes, Jeremy, and I give you permission to ravish her, too." Perfectly
deadpan. Then he looks from Jeremy to Anthony. "Plumbing?"
OK, that worked out not at all. Nat sags back in her chair and 'pouts' over her
beer-planted chocolate rose. "No one asked -me- about the ravishing."
"Well, uh, I heard you were having Natalie here do some construction work and I
got to thinking that since I used to do, like, contractor work back home
so maybe you could use some help fixing this place up a little, or
something, like maybe the plumbing?" Anthony spills, then clears his
throat.
"The pipes in the basement suck ass Salem. They are old and corroded as Tony
pointed out the other day." Jermey says, glancing sidelong to Natalie
with a knowing wink. "So, I'll pick you up around.... nine?"
Salem blinks at Anthony, then sits up a bit. "Good god, man, why didn't you
mention that before?"
"It didn't occur to me...?" Tony finds a place to sit, then takes off his cap
and wrings it idly.
Natalie gives Anthony a discreet two-thumbs up /and/ a grin. Hah! "Uhm, maybe?
Yeah, I guess. You've got a key; you don't have to be buzzed in."
Salem snorts, then gives Tony a rare grin. The Elder's in a good mood tonight,
oh yes. Someone take a picture. "Consider yourself hired. And go get
yourself a beer or something."
Jeremy chuckles at Natalie and glances over to Tony. "Cool beans. You get a
beer.. oh.. Salem is smiling.. hold that." He starts digging around in
his jacket. "Got my Elph in here somewhere."
Anthony grins back at Natalie, slouching back in his chair. "No thanks, I'm not
thirsty," he says to Salem, shaking his head at the offer.
It was the popcorn. Natalie bends down to snatch the beer bottle by her foot
and offers it to the Ragabash. "Wouldn't want you to get lost on the way
to the kitchen. No? Then I'll put in back in the fridge before I go up.
I'd've offered it to you, Jeremy, but I wasn't sure who's driving.
Anyway, you wanna be sharp for tonight."
Salem refrains from throwing something at Jeremy -- he's too dignified for that
-- but snorts and immediately goes deadpan as he bites into the chocolate
rose again. Bastard.
Click! Jeremy catches a picture of Salem eating off a chocolate rose. With a
smug grin, he slips the small credit card sized camera into his jacket,
patting it.
Salem casts a long-suffering look at the ceiling.
Anthony nods slightly to Natalie, then glances distractedly at the brandished
camera. "Nerd."
"Respect those beneath ye, all are of Gaia." Jeremey quotes as he leans back
with a smirk on his face, settling into a chair. He wraps his hands
around one knee as he draws it up to his chest, leaning upon it. "You can
not call me a nerd. It is offensive." He pretends to look hurt. "Salem,
gut him."
Natalie volunteers, "I think this is my cue to run. I mean, go upstairs to
brush my teeth. Like I said, Anthony, you can borrow my blowtorch." She
stands and collects her rose bottle, stacks her two bowls together.
"G'night."
"Get your new girlfriend to do it," Salem retorts, turning half-lidded eyes
back to the scene. "...Or not. Good night, Nat."
Laughing, Jeremy feels 'schooled'. "Ow... alright.." He trails off, glancing
over to Nat, blowing her a kiss. "Good night -love-, see you in the
morning."
Anthony chuckles slightly, waving as Natalie makes her exit before settling
back into his seat.
Natalie, at the door, swings 'round to level a Look at Jeremy. Her lip pulls up
in a hint of snarl but her voice is calm as she advises, "Don't push your
luck."
Jeremy liftss up two fingers in a 'peace' salute, offering up a smile.
Salem smiles thinly as he finishes off the chocolate rose and sets the now
bud-less stem into his empty beer bottle.
All hint, all suggestion of snarl disappears as Nat dips her head a last time
to her Elder. She disappears down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Jeremy cants his head over towards Salem. "I don't think that went real well."
He says with a flat voice.
Anthony stands up, putting his cap back on. "I think I'm going to go take a
closer look at the plumbing," he says, heading back towards the door.
Salem nods distractedly at Anthony, most of his attention on Jeremy. He shrugs
faintly. "Give her time. She hasn't even decided if she's going to stay."
Jeremy chuckles. "I'm not really looking as it is tho' Salem. I got out of a
messy relationship with Renee, and a uncomfortable one with Aubrey. I
don't got much look snagging normal girls. See yeh Tony."
"Give her time," Salem says again. "Give yourself time. No rush." He glances at
his pocketwatch. "When are you and Leala heading out?"
"In an hour." Jeremy says, patting himself down a bit, then glances over to him
with a smile. "Hopefully this goes smoothly." He says softly. "I'm a bit
nervous. Even tho' I'll be sitting in the van. If Leala gets in trouble,
she only has me for backup."
Salem smiles faintly, eyes half-lidded. "I have every confidence in you two.
Especially you, Jeremy. I'm sure you'll do just fine."
Squinting his eyes, Jeremy chuckles. "Shit, you should lose your voice every
couple of months. You're acting.. real nice.. an stuff. Thanks. It means
a lot to hear that from you." He says with a grin on his face. "Makes me
feel like I can go out an do anything"
Salem wrinkles his nose a bit. "I'm not _that_ much of an ogre, am I?"
Jeremy cants his head to the side. "Can I speak honestly without being killed?"
Salem's mouth twists, expression souring. "That you have to ask..." He breaks
off the thought and folds his arms across his chest, good mood evaporated
into something more somber and grim. But it's a thin moon, and he doesn't
seem ready to explode. "Go ahead."
"Sometimes you can be a real dick and its hard to act around you. I know that
yer one of the more ragier Glass Walker's I met.. then again, you got
Lord blood in ya, an you were once an Ahroun, so its nothing I'm going to
hold against ya. I've known ya for a few years. Its just that you don't
tend to give off great first impressions. Most GlassWalker's I was raised
up with, especially Don's, are like.. total corporate. Suits and money,
got the city under their thumb, pretty much everyone is his political
bitch." Jeremy says calmly without a bit of disrespect in his voice. "I
guess its just.. a bit weird. Most of the tribe up on Portland were total
buisness, hackers, techno phreaks. Here it more rag tag. I think John and
Roger come from the same line of Walker I'm from, but even these new guys
thare showing up is all... well... I dunno, kinda different. You know?
I'm rambling I know. Its just my own personal observation from my
fourteen years of experience."
Jeremy also adds quickly. "Of course that doesn't make me think you aren't a
good Glass Walker. I think you are doing a good job with what limited
resources that the tribe has to offer in this Sept. Its picking up again."
Salem grunts. Ragey dick or not, he doesn't seem to get particularly angry by
Jeremy's observations or his tone of voice. "We _are_ rag-tag. The whole
damned Sept is, these days. I don't claim to be the most ideal person for
this job, either... I'm just..." His lips purse. "...what we have, right
now." He shrugs, pushing to his feet and pacing slowly toward the
curtained window. He nods absently at the kin's second remark.
"Fortunately, it is. And if someone more qualified for this job comes
along, I'll step down and be damned grateful for it." He shakes his head.
"John died too soon. That's the fuck of it. But life's like that,
sometimes. So you make do with what you have." He shrugs, turning back,
fixing Jeremy with that mismatched, intense gaze. "More than anyone else
in the family, I depend on you and Rina. Be assured of that, even when I
seem to be acting like, as you say, 'a real dick'."
"Well, yer' Garou. Its in your nature to be a real dick." Jermey says, flashing
a quick grin back. "I remember the Don back at home in Portland. Mm..
Richard Wagner. His deed name was The-Bottom-Line. Pretty much that was
what he was. Everything he ever did in the city, was dealt with a
contract. He made everyone sign the bottom line. In his office, he had
filing cabnits all over, filled with contracts, deals, an what not. If he
wanted shit to get done, he made sure it got done, through paperwork, and
if that didn't work, he'd follow it up with a bullet. Dude could hit a
dime tossed in the air two hundred yards away with a sniper rifle. He'd
scare the shit out of me." He shrugs his shoulders. "He had a corporate
pack as well. Chairmen. They'd have meetings just like city hall and then
go out and run the place. Hell, he had everyone in his backpocket." He
grins. "I like what you are doing tho'. You seem to be good at delegating
authority when it needs to be done. I think you are qualified. You an
Richard are just two different Dons. You handle things by the claw, he
handles it by the pen."
Salem smiles faintly, the expression edged. "Thanks."
Jeremy nods his head and chuckles. "I'm your nerd bro. I'm always here if you
need a lil bit of old school in this new playground. Also, I've been in
contact with an old school Garou from this Sept. Um.. his name is Trevor,
Pisses on Order. He used to be a Fianna, until he went to Europe on his
Passage and said..fuckit. Decided to Rite as a Walker. He's a Raggie,
hard core monkey wrencher and can play a mean game of Half Life. I've
been convincing him to come back and meet up with us. You know.. since I
mentioned Brian is gone. I guess they didn't like each other much.
Something about a dog collar and super glue."
Salem's eyebrows rise. This even tugs a short chuckle out of the man. "Think
he'll come?"
Jeremy bobs his head. "Maybe. I think he may know Ebony, at least when Ebon
used ta' live over there. He's pretty popular on GWNET. Also, I kinda
issued him a challenge about my G5 Power Mac wasting his new 64 Bit
Athlon. He says he misses this place tho', kinda wants to see how much
we've fucked it up."
Salem's expression darkens a bit at mention of Ebony, and he snorts, turning
away and pushing aside the curtain to peer out the darkened window.
"Well, if he wants a home and wants to screw with the Wyrm... I'll be
glad to welcome him. Let him know about the free room and board, too, at
the Dominion." He lets the curtain drop as he turns back. "Place is still
too empty."
"Alright.." Trails off Jeremy, clearing his throat. "You know.. Eb an I've been
hanging out and shit lately.. its kinda weird still. Him being.. what he
is." He rubs his shoulder. "I still kick his ass in Unreal."
Salem goes quite still suddenly, a penny dropping behind his skull. "Ye-es...
So. He told you, then."
Jeremy nods his head slowly. "He is my best friend Salem.. I don't think even
that could keep us apart for long. I'm not tripping. He don't bite me, I
don't make fun of his complexion, we just keep it at that. I'm not going
to think of him any different. Not unless I have to."
Salem nods. "He's still family. Just... I'm sure you know. Keep it quiet." He
grimaces. "Too many Garou would see him dead, really dead, just for being
what he is." He shakes his head, hands vanishing into his pockets,
expression pensive. "Haven't even told Rina." He eyes Jeremy. "Did he
tell you if he'd told K. C. yet?"
Jeremy nods his head. "He told KC. They talked, she cried.. they are going to
be just best friends and leave it at that." He says softly. "I haven't
told anyone. I kinda don't think about it." He says with a slow shrug of
his shoulders. "We only hang out like.. once a month or so. An when we
do, we don't talk about all that.. stuff."
Salem nods. "Probably for the best," he murmurs. He passes a hand back over his
short-cropped black hair and exhales a breath. "I have some work to do...
and you and Leala will be leaving soon anyway." The Elder's gaze is
terribly somber. "Be careful, and come back."
Jeremy nods his head. "Well. I plan on it. But.. if we don't. You can bet that
I'm going to make a nice explosion and you'll hear about it on the news.
Um.. one of the things I was taught. If you are compromised, destroy
whatever evidence you got. So, lets hope that the cops don't pull me
over. I got some C-4 strapped in the back." He gives you a salute. "But I
don't forsee any problems. Enjoy your night." With that, he snags up the
heavy bag, lugging it to the front door, shouting up the stairs. "Leala,
hurry UP!"
Salem chuckles very faintly, though without too much honest humor. He watches
Jeremy for a moment, then collects the trash from the parlor and heads
out, getting rid of it before vanishing into his rooms.
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