Lisa Fishes for News

[hazlogs]

10/1/1998

Lisa peers at the door for a moment, then knocks.
Salem's door opens after a series of clicks and sliding bolt-sounds as he 
  undoes the locks. He gestures Lisa inside with a silent jerk of his head.
Lisa's mood and demeanor resembles that of a last, surviving soldier from a 
  Russian platoon. She seems to be waiting for the commander to brand her a 
  traitor and have her executed. "How's JJ?" she says, voice horse.
Salem slams the door closed and starts resetting the locks. "Alive," the 
  Ahroun rasps, curtly.
Lisa leans against the wall and says, "Say it."
Salem turns around, arching a brow. "Say what?"
Lisa says, "The rest of the sentence. I can hear it every time I ask someone 
  how they're doing after last night." She crosses her arms. "Alive. No thanks 
  to you."
Salem rolls his eyes slightly. "No thanks to me, neither," he growls, slamming 
  the deadbolt home. "No thanks to *any* of us."
Lisa shakes her head. "You were there. You could do something. You weren't 
  waiting at the safehouse for people to get back. You weren't told 'We really 
  don't need you on this one, stay back with the support crew.'" She sighs and 
  bangs the back of her head against the wall.
Salem turns around, scowling. "Did you come here just to angst at me?"
Lisa chuckles and says, "Actually, I came here to see how you were doing after 
  the fight last week."
Salem's mood only grows blacker. "I'm alive," he growls, and stalks toward the 
  kitchen.
Lisa pauses and says, "Was it a vamp?"
Salem pauses and turns back, frowning. "Eamon seemed to think so. But I've met 
  fomori that powerful, too."
Lisa says, "Someone saw. A Gnawer Lupe. Said the thing smelled like gravedirt."
Salem snorts. "And that's proof?" Edgy (though, when is he not?), Salem 
  disappears briefly into the kitchen. "Has anybody seen it since?"
Lisa shakes her head. "Nope. I was hoping I could get more info from you."
Salem grunts. From the kitchen, he answers, "The bastard practically knocked 
  me down with two punches, and didn't even react to mine until I elbowed him 
  in the fucking groin. I *know* I frenzied, and he still practically killed 
  me, while he ran off under his own steam."
Lisa pauses and says, "Could it have been Sabbat?"
Salem's answer comes after a brief pause, and with an audible growl. "It could 
  have been."
Lisa nods and says, "Oh, and one other thing. Next time...please have Eamon or 
  whoever call one of us." She crosses her arms. "I was worried about you."
Salem returns from the kitchen with a can of beer and peers at the Ragabash. 
  "I was in a fucking coma," he growls, and then relents slightly. "But thank 
  you, anyway."
Lisa pauses and says, "Then I'll knock Eamon over the head for not calling one 
  of us." She shrugs. "It's...you're family now. Dunno about everyone else, 
  but family's important to me. I've lost too many tribesmates. Don't want to 
  lose anymore."
Salem grunts, dropping into a chair. "Nor do I. Shit." He cracks the beer open 
  and swallows some. "Fuck. Help yourself, by the way."
Lisa smiles and says, "No, thanks. You don't want to see me drunk. I'm a 
  bitter, sarcastic little drunk."
Salem smirks. "And I'm a violent one. But there's water, too. Bottled."
Lisa nods and says, "Thanks." She walks over and roots through the fridge, 
  getting out some water and pouring it into the nearest semi-clean glass. She 
  pauses. "Well, here's to hoping my system can take down whatever's growing 
  in here." She knocks back the water, pauses, then swallows.
Salem takes another swallow of beer. "You're a Garou. You can take it."
Lisa says, "That's what I thought about Hooters buffalo wings." She shivers. 
  "I can't prove it, but I'm damn sure those things are Wyrmtainted."
Salem blinks and lowers his beer, turning around to peer at her. "Hooters? 
  That godawful place with the women in tight shirts?"
Lisa nods and says, "Yep."
Salem grimaces. "Tacky place."
Lisa nods and says, "Yeah, but good for embarassing people. My friend 
  Charlotte and I would go there and take bets on which breasts were real, and 
  which ones were fake."
Salem takes another swig of beer. "That's not difficult. Though easier to tell 
  without the shirts."
Lisa shakes her head, "No, the shirts helped. Most of the girls in DC didn't 
  wear bras, because it increased their tips, and you could tell by how their 
  breasts flattened out when squeezed by the fabric. If they flattened at all."
Salem swallows some more beer. "Still, easier in porn films." His manner is 
  quite casual despite the subject matter. The beer helps, perhaps, and the 
  probable fact that he doesn't consider Lisa to be a candidate for potential 
  romance.
Lisa smiles, "I like to think of them as badly filmed comedies.
Salem grins sharply. "Naturally. They're much better in Europe, though. 
  American pron filmmakers have no taste."
Lisa smiles, "YEah, with the european filmmakers there's pretention to laugh 
  at. And the bad dubbing."
Salem chortles. "And the soundtrack."
Lisa ahs and says, "Yeah. Synthesized porn music instead of jass porn music."

(After some more talk, Lisa departs.)