Ungrateful Bastard

[hazlogs]

[3/28/98]
[Harbor Park]

[Kyle remarks how Sally seems to hate Salem.]

"Yes, she does," agrees Salem, taking another drag. The end of his cigarette 
  glows brighter orange as he inhales. "Wonder why." The flat delivery of 
  those last two words gives indication that the Ronin indeed has a few 
  theories.

The Get, true to form, doesn't pursue the question. Instead he opts for 
  another smart-assed answer. "It's the cigarettes. Chicks hate 'em."

"But they dig scars," Salem quips, deadpan. "Or so I hear."

Kyle's thick eyebrow arches and he turns away from looking the women over, to 
  face Salem. "Their own, or ours?"

Salem lifts his eyebrows a bit at that. "Ours." He shrugs, tapping ash onto 
  the ground. "Nevermind. Mustang doesn't like me because I get irritable at 
  inconvenient times, and she doesn't want to deal with that." He takes 
  another inhalation of cigarette smoke.

Kyle barks a sharp laugh. "Mustang?"

"You've never heard that nickname?" Salem sounds archly amused. "She told me 
  it herself, first time I met her. Mustang Sally."

Kyle's shoulders rise and fall, the sharp laugh giving way to mostly-concealed 
  amusement. "Maybe she told me. Don't pay a hell of a lot of attention to 
  what she's saying. Got better things ta... pay attention to."

Salem mms briefly the dark amusement glittering in his eyes. "I can imagine."

Kyle rolls his neck, which complains with a sharp popping sound. This 
  completed, he inspects his watch, holding it close to his face to be able to 
  read it in the dim light. "Fuck," he says. "Fuck goddamn crappy bloody job."

Salem lifts his eyebrows. "You have a job?"

Kyle's face twists into an angry snarl. "Fucking goddamned night janitor at 
  the fucking goddamned hospital. All gettin' ready for the fucking goddamed 
  revel."

Salem's humor evaporates slowly, his eyes going solemn. He nods wordlessly, 
  taking another hit from the nicotine cancer stick.

Kyle's anger bubbles beneath a taut surface of control. "I should go kill 
  something before I head into work and end up killing something there."

Morgan and Selena make their way north from the meadow just south of the 
  fountain. They're walking by the river, hand in hand, and talking softly to 
  one another. Morgan is smiling, and Selena is laughing.

Salem eyes the Get curiously. "Probably," he agrees, unsmiling.

Kyle's gaze swings like the barrel of a tank at the sound of laughter, and as 
  he sights in Morgan and Selena his already angry features knot into a 
  disgusted snarl. "Awww, Jesus. Dykes make me want to hurl." It's plenty loud 
  enough for the women to hear. "Man," he says to Salem. "I'm *way* the hell 
  outta here."

Salem smiles thinly, leaning against the back of the bench. "A pleasure 
  talking to you, Mr. Rohan."

Morgan's face changes from an amused grin to a snarl damn quickly. She flips 
  Kyle a well known gesture meaning "Fuck you" as she glares rather stonily.

Selena's eyebrows arch, and she looks neither as amused as she just was or as 
  pissed off as Morgan is. She merely makes the statement: "Well, someone has 
  some insecurities..." Then simply shrugs it off. Been there. Done that.

Kyle's adams apple bobs as he swallows more vitriol. "Right," he says, still 
  watching the women disgustedly. "Real great damned time." Without answering 
  the bird, he keeps his head shaking disapprovingly as he stalks from the 
  park.

Salem sucks down the last lungful's worth from the cigarette and flicks the 
  butt onto the ground, stepping on it and crushing it out quite efficiently 
  underfoot. Then he leans back against the bench, arms folding across his 
  chest as he turns a neutral gaze toward Morgan and her... friend.

Kyle makes his way onto the street in the west.
Kyle has left.

"Fucking asshole," Morgan mutters under her breath at Kyle. She glares at 
  Salem, before lightening her expression toward Selena. "Fucking prick," she 
  says, the edge in her voice sublimated some. She offers her hand back to 
  Selena so they can start walking again.

"Yes, Morgan," says Salem in a dry tone, his eyes on the darkened sky. "I've 
  missed you, too."

Selena glances back towards the man as he speaks. She looks to Morgan, jerking 
  her chin in his direction. "Friend of yours?"

Morgan curls her lips down and then shrugs, half-heartedly, taking Selena's 
  hand in her own. "Not exactly," she comments. "He's more of a project than a 
  friend, per se. I just gave him a kick in the ass when no one else would."

Salem's face tightens a bit. "Project," he repeats, pushing up from the bench 
  and straightening to his six-foot-something height. "Fuck you, Morgan. You 
  did it for youself, not for me."

Selena nods, actually giving the man something of a smile as the looks back 
  towards him. "No one else would, eh... Probably afraid he'd hand their leg 
  back to them on a plate?"

Morgan seperates herself from Selena, looking over her shoulder that Selena 
  should stay put. She marches over towards the Ronin. "What did you say," she 
  says, rather than asks. Her tone is threatening.

Salem folds his arms across his chest and lifts his chin in stubborn 
  arrogance. "I said that you did it for yourself."

Morgan crowds the Ronin; she gets right in his face. "Listen up, you arrogant 
  self-serving son of a bitch, you can say whatever you want about what 
  happened, but you owe me, asshole. You owe me, bigtime, and don't you 
  fucking forget it." Her voice is a cold calm intensity that should make a 
  normal person's hair stand on end.

Selena looks both concerned and vaguely... annoyed, as she watches Morgan 
  quite literally 'step on some toes'.

Salem's nostrils flare at the Fury's invasion of his personal space, but he 
  remains rooted, anger flashing in his dark eyes. "Owe you for what?" he 
  demands. "I didn't _ask_ you to interfere with my life." He curls his lip 
  scornfully. "But you know far, far more about arrogance than I do, you 
  self-satisfied, stinking cunt."

Maria makes her way through the tall grass of the south.
Maria has arrived.

Tendrils of fog start to coalesce around the Ronin and the Fury. Before the 
  cloud is fully formed around the pair, she's clenched her hand into a tight 
  fist and aims directly for Salem's face. She moves with tremendous speed, 
  faster than the eye can follow. A half-made cloud now nearly envelopes the 
  two Garou.

Maria, out walking her dog, pauses as the fog gets heavier.

Sally MacKay makes her way through the tall grass of the south.
Sally MacKay has arrived.

Paddy makes his way through the tall grass of the south.
Paddy has arrived.

Sally darts into the park at a run, laughing, her blonde hair bouncing as she 
  leads the Fianna in from the street.

Salem is ready for the blow -- how could he not be, after using such a word to 
  a Garou of such a tribe? And before the fog closes in completely, he 
  _moves_, ducking he blow by inches with almost blinding speed as he lunges 
  bodily for the Fury.

Paddy chuckles as he chases after Sally, then screeches to a nearly dead halt 
  as he notices the other people in the park. His knees instinctively flex, 
  dropping him into a crouch, and his hand reaches out to take hold of Sally's 
  arm, pulling the young woman back towards him.

Sally's laugh is intercut with a sound of surprise as Paddy's hand closes on 
  her arm and drags her to an abrupt halt. "Hey, whoa," she starts, then 
  finally notices the small group of Garou. "Damn," she says quietly, lifting 
  her head as she looks their way.

Maria retreats the other way, glancing over her shoulder as she does so. Her 
  dog, of course, would rather like to stay, but he doesn't get a vote.

Selena stares at her hands, the quiet, desperate look worn on her face of 
  someone who hates being helpless. Eyes wide, she spins suddenly at the 
  laughing couple, as if hoping to warn them away.

Paddy unthinkingly thrusts Sally behind him, recognizing this as something 
  that she shouldn't be directly involved in. His bright green eyes sweep 
  rapidly over the people in the park, cataloging each, before returning to 
  the pair who are rapidly disappearing into a rather localized fogbank.

Morgan catches the Ronin, midstep back, moving aside slightly as he tries to 
  force her down. His blows land on the theurge in succession, rapidly, as the 
  fog continues to close around the combatants. As Morgan, now bloodied, moves 
  to wrest herself free from the Ronin, they become completely obfuscated in 
  the fog swept up, no doubt, from the river. Inside the watery vapor, Morgan 
  is slowed some, but not before she retaliates in kind, aiming her first few 
  fist attacks against the Ronin's torso, and then finally throwing in a knee 
  to his groin at the end.

"What the fuck?" Sally asks, almost to herself. Distracted by the rather 
  strange patch of fog, she puts up little struggle against being bodily 
  moved; as soon as he's placed her, though, she steps right back out to one 
  side so she can try to watch. "Damn," she murmurs again as she catches sight 
  of a face before the fog totally closes the scene off. Questioning eyes go 
  to Paddy.

Paddy mutters under his breath to Sally, "I thought ya said this place was 
  quiet." He keeps his gaze firmly on the fog patch, still in a fighter's 
  crouch. His big hands have come out of his jacket pockets, and are up in 
  front of him, fingers spread. "Ya have any idea what's goin' on, lass?"

"Well yeah," Sally sounds just a bit annoyed. "Usually it is, except for you 
  guys." She nods towards the fog and says quietly, "Both of them are like 
  you."

"Yeah, I noticed tha darkling one, and I figured tha other for one, too," 
  Paddy says, his voice showing some stress. "And tha lass from tha street, 
  too, I'll wager. But do ya know who tha other one in tha fog is?"

Sally takes a single step forward, still trying to see. "Salem and what's her 
  name, the stick-up-her-ass one," gestures at the fog, "they're both like 
  you. And Diana too, right."

Paddy puts out one arm, trying to keep Sally back. "Lass, I wouldn't go much 
  closer ta them than ya are, already. Ya never know what's gonna happen when 
  tha fur starts flyin', so ta speak."

That damnable fog makes it almost impossible for onlookers to get anything 
  resembling a good look at the two Garou within it, but the movement of its 
  eddies and the muffled sounds within are evidence enough of the brawl. 
  Eventually, the flurry of supernaturally-speeded activity stops, and the 
  tendrils of fog begin -- slowly, as fog is wont to do -- to drift away.

Paddy watches the fog intently for signs that anything may emerge from it, 
  especially anything in the general size and shape of an enraged Garou.

Sally doesn't argue with Paddy, nor does she push against his arm. The blonde 
  steps closer to him, trying to peer through the thinking mist. "Who won?" 
  her voice remains quiet.

Morgan shuffles slowly out of the fog, her face battered and bloodied, leaving 
  behind a prone, scowling Ronin, likewise bloodied from the undoubtedly broken nose 
  he shares with the Fury. She snarls at Paddy and Sally, and then Selena 
  huddles near the Black Fury elder and they retreat wordlessly to the street.

Paddy mutters to Sally, "Looks like she did, lass. She's tha one still standin',
  after all."

Salem remains on the ground for a few moments as the fog continues to drift 
  away, his bruised and battered face twisted into a grimace of pain. Finally, 
  with a grunt, he pushes to one knee and then to his feet -- slowly, stiffly 
  -- and leans against the back of the bench. He mutters a thick oath in 
  Serbian and turns his head aside to spit out a broken tooth.

Sally MacKay nods distractedly, her eyes shifting away from Morgan at the 
  woman's expression. Drawing closer to the Fianna, she watches Salem sit up. 
  Even though the Fury is the one who came out of this standing up, the kin's 
  expression shows a whole lot more... unease... as she watches the Ronin.

Paddy very carefully keeps Sally behind him, and starts backing her towards 
  the street. "Well, lass, I don't think that anyone's gonna be in tha mood ta 
  stay and chat," he says quietly.

Dru Ash makes her way down the disintegrating cement path, leaving the road 
  behind.
Dru Ash has arrived.

Morgan has left.

Her eyes fixed on Salem (well, fixed unless he looks their way), Sally doesn't 
  argue for staying. "Sounds like plan," she agrees quietly, backing slowly 
  with him.

Salem spits out another tooth and then drops into the bench with a grunt, 
  muttering thickly in irate Serbian and touching gingerly at his broken nose.

Maria makes her way onto the street in the west.
Maria has left.

Dru Ash stops near the gate of the park, hands on her hips. Her stern eyes 
  scan the place, from the sandbags against the riverfront, to the group 
  gathered around the fountain.

Paddy nearly pushes the girl out onto the street, and steps right along behind 
  her.

Sally MacKay makes her way onto the street in the west.
Sally MacKay has left.