Allies

[hazlogs]

[2/2/98]

Currently on this breezy and cold winter sunset in the general St. Claire 
  area, it is 32 degrees Fahrenheit (0.0 degrees Celsius). The wind is coming 
  from the south-southwest at 8.7 mph. The ground is normal. Skies are cloudy 
  with a definite chance of precipitation.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (40% full).

Harbor Park Fountain
The area where the fountain was, and presumably the new fountain will be, is 
  now totally enclosed by high plywood walls. There is a door in one of the 
  walls, firmly locked with a padlock. The walls enclose much of the flagstone 
  area, now, only leaving a little around the edges of the old courtyard. To 
  one side, some ground is being leveled for further improvements. Healthy 
  green hedges line one side of the courtyard, just behind some 
  graffiti-covered benches.
The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the 
  park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street. The park extends to 
  the south.

Sally MacKay walks along the back of the bench, her arms shifting back and 
  forth to aid in her balance. She's smiling as she nears the end of her 
  wooden tightrope and does not notice Scott's approach.

Scott stops a short distance from Sally, speaking,"Evening, Sally." His voice 
  is crisp, clear and authorative. And upsurpisingly, it just seems right 
  coming from the Galliard's lips.

Salem stalks in from the direction of the meadow, hands in pockets and head 
  slightly lowered. He's still quite a distance away.

Sally MacKay's head quickly turns towards Scott, requiring her to adjust her 
  arms. Remaining balanced on the corner of the tilted uppermost board of the 
  bench, she returns the greeting with a, "Hey."

Scott's lips purse faintly as he looks the blonde over. "I heard Esther came 
  by the bar the other night," he comments.

"Yeah..." Sally draws the word out, then takes the final step before reaching 
  the end. She jumps down, landing with bent knees and a slightly guarded look 
  almost hidden within her eyes. "Last night."

Salem pauses to light a cigarette. Pocketing the lighter, he scans the park, 
  noting first the familiar female figure playing tightrope on the bench, and 
  the tall blond man speaking to her. He frowns a bit, observing them from out 
  of earshot.

Scott watchs Sally for another moment, letting the silence draw out 
  uncomfortably. "I heard you were less than cooperative, as well."

Sally MacKay leans against the back side of the bench, not looking too 
  bothered. Not by the silence, at least. With her face angled a degree or two 
  away, she watches him with upraised eyebrows, waiting. After the question 
  she shrugs, "I didn't know her, and I had told Reggie already."

Scott uh-huhs softly, before he says,"I see. So um, I suppose that if one of 
  us doesn't know you, we shouldn't bother keeping one of those things that go 
  bump in the night from gutting you. Or raping you. Or any number of the 
  things they do so well, under that logic."

Salem remains out of earshot, but he continues to watch, unsmiling, hands in 
  his pockets.

Sally MacKay's chin lifts, her casual, every day smile vanishing. "Excuse me? 
  Okay, so you just want me to go around telling people there was a fuckin' 
  /werewolf/ running around at work?" she lowers her voice only a little, 
  except on the one word. She glances to one side and sees a drunk. She turns 
  and steps that way, annoyance clear on both action and tone, "Okay, I will."

Scott's lips twist in a dark smirk, and he says,"You know, we punish kin for 
  breaking the Veil too. Don't play word games, Sally. They don't become you. 
  If you didn't tell her anything because you didn't know what she was and she 
  didn't identify herself and such say so. Don't try and trap me into being 
  wrong ... it's infantile."

Sally MacKay spins back on him, true anger upon her face... it's almost enough 
  to smother the spark of fear in her eyes at his thinly veiled threat, but 
  not quite. "I /did/ not tell her because I didn't know what she was!" 
  Sally's voice is raised, though not quite a yell, "Once I knew I told her 
  everything!" Her hands are fisted at her side.

Scott remains ... relatively calm. Although the storm of rage and emotion 
  broils in the sea of his midnight blue eyes. His motions are even, his mein 
  unshakable and fitting of the nobility of his birth. He takes a step 
  forward, and then says simply,"Good." A pause follows before he asks with 
  genuine curiousity,"Why do you hate us, me so, Sally?"

Salem takes the cigarette from his mouth and exhales smoke. His gaze shifts 
  upwards, toward the light-polluted city sky, and then moves back toward the 
  two figures in the distance. Putting the cigarette back between his lips, 
  the Ahroun begins walking toward them, hands slipping back into his coat 
  pockets in a casual manner, a facade that's betrayed by the primal energy 
  pulsing in his blood and fueled by the moon.

With effort, the kinswoman holds her ground as the Fang advances a step. 
  Neither the anger, nor that tinge of fear, have left her in the least. She 
  does not answer him, but instead says in a cold, tight voice, "I called you. 
  I told you what happened. I told her. What the hell else do you want?"

Jose Figueroa makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the 
  road behind.
Jose Figueroa has arrived.
Jose Figueroa wanders down the sidewalk from the direction of the Rialto, 
  meandering toward the benches.

Scott shakes his head a little, and then replies,"I don't /require/ anything 
  else, Sally. What I want is something that is your choice to give. And 
  that's understanding. I don't understand you, Sally. Or why you act the way 
  you do."

"Why I act-?" Sally starts to repeat in a tone of incredulous disbelief, then 
  cuts herself off. "/You/ show up here talking threats about /something I 
  didn't even do/, and you say you don't understand /me/?" She raises herself 
  up tall, "I'll be sure to fuckin' call if he shows up again."

Salem finally comes up to the pair, stepping out from behind Scott and moving 
  to the side, not between them but an equal distance from one to the other. 
  He says nothing, the cigarette burning silently between his lips, lank black 
  hair covering his left eye partially, his hands still in his pockets.

Jose Figueroa moves over to one of the benches, fully aware of the trio and 
  the tension. He slides down into the bench, hands crammed into the pockets 
  of the ratty jacket.

Scott tilts his head to the side, seeming more amused than either upset or 
  hurt. "I'm not making threats Sally. I'm only stating facts because I figure 
  you are a bright enough girl that if you are reminded of them, you'll make 
  the smart choice. I'm asking about what did happen, and if I have to be a 
  little hard to get information out of you, it's only because that seems to 
  be the only way for me to get through to you." If he notices the Ronin, 
  Scott makes no real show of it but those trained with the mind of a warrior 
  would notice the Fang subtly change his stance long before Salem gets near 
  him.

Sally MacKay's stance shifts subtly: the anger does not dissipate even a bit, 
  but certainty, almost to the point of aggression, takes over for that hint of 
  fear as Salem comes into view. "Well thank you for the effort," there's 
  something of a sneer in her voice, even if not visible on her face. Her 
  fists have not yet returned to fingers.

Salem turns his body slightly so that he's facing the Fang more than Sally, 
  his eyelids slightly lowered as he regards Scott, taking the measure of the 
  Fang without letting his dark eyes touch the other Garou's lighter ones. The 
  Rage shifts its weight restlessly under his flesh, and despite his 
  tight-lipped and slightly haggard look, it's clear to Garou eyes that the 
  nobility of his breeding almost matches Scott's.

Scott just chuckles, though the hints of rage flicker through his expression 
  before he shakes his head, offering a game,"You are welcome," to Sally. He 
  looks over the Ronin once, his gaze even and controled. He pauses only long 
  enough to see if Salem has something to say to him before turning to go.

Salem says nothing; he merely gives the Fang a small, sardonic smile, the 
  cigarette tilted downwards between his lips. The facade of ease is clearly 
  that, a facade, though there's something about his stance that's in the 
  nature of a coiled cobra, now at rest but ready to strike at a moment's 
  notice.

Dillan makes his way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road 
  behind.
Dillan has arrived.

Sally MacKay takes a step to the side, placing herself closer to Salem, though 
  off to one side and slightly behind. With most of her body still within view 
  to Scott, she just watches the Fang with her arms tightly down at her side; 
  to an outsider it might look like a show of support to the Ronin, or at 
  least a joining of forces against the Galliard.

Thrumping subdued, the familiar form of everyone's favorite Shadow Lord struts 
  into view. Spotting a mostly-amicable crowd, he wanders towards it.

Whatever danger Salem may present, the Silver Fang evidently doesn't seem too 
  worried as there is no change in the calm confidence the surrounds him. He 
  even turns his back to the Ronin as if to emphasize what a lack of threat he 
  feels the other man to be and starts up the path, vaguely towards the 
  direction Dillan is arriving from.

Salem's lip curls, teeth clamping on the cigarette at the blatant insult, and 
  a flicker of rage passes across his saturnine features. But there's no 
  explosion, either because the Ronin has control over his temper or because 
  he expected just such a reaction from the Silver Fang. Taking the cigarette 
  from his mouth, he turns to Sally and asks, quietly, "Are you all right?"

Sally MacKay reacts for both herself and Salem. "Fuckin' bastard," she mutters 
  after Scott, then nods towards Salem. "Yeah," but as the anger now seeps 
  away, her voice gains a ragged edge. Looking up at him she asks, "You?"

Salem examines his cigarette, in particular the crushed end of it where his 
  teeth bit down. He shrugs a shoulder, affecting an air of nonchalance. "Oh, 
  you know. The usual."

Dillan wanders right up to the crowd with a look that resembles amusement far 
  too much to be healthy, considering the situation. "Ooo," he says, full of 
  mock awe, coming to stand slightly behind Scott, to one side. "Sounds like 
  someone got their drawers all up in a bundle."

Sally MacKay leans back against the bench where everything started. "The 
  usual," she agreed with a returning smile. "Yeah. Hey, we still on for 
  tonight?"

Scott stops and glances back at Sally's words, the slightly lopsided smile 
  returning filled with dark amusement. He shakes his head a little and then 
  comments to Dillan,"Yeah, I think I just insulted her new boyfriend. Guess 
  she has alot to learn yet."

Salem drops the mangled cigarette and crushes it under his foot. "Of course," 
  the Ronin says, favoring Sally with a faint, tight little smile as he 
  answers her. He crooks his elbow, for all the world like a gentleman 
  offering a lady his arm. "Shall we go?"

Jose Figueroa snorts at the Fang, pulling his hands out of the crusty old coat 
  and crossing his arms.

Sally MacKay drops into a curtsy, then rises with a smirk at herself. "Yeah." 
  She takes his arm just long enough to go with the offer-and-curtsy-act, then 
  drops it in exchange for a friendly, playful little bumping of her shoulder 
  against his arm.

Salem's grin widens slightly, teeth flashing briefly in the growing darkness 
  of the evening, and starts heading out of the park, Sally in tow.