The Hospital, the Litterbug

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:27 Pacific Time on Sun Oct 21 2001.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (30% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 49
degrees Fahrenheit (9 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the south at 10 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.92 and
rising, and the relative humidity is 97 percent. The dewpoint is 48
degrees Fahrenheit (8 degrees Celsius.)

Harbor Park -- Fountain

Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six
trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into
concrete, and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain.

The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and
about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix
of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel
slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around
the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in
bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle
is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped
in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek
symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its
feet.

Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any
residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront.

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 and the city of
St. Claire. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several
feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions.

Salem is seated on the lip of the fountain, his hands gloved and his coat
buttoned against the chill. His face is drawn and tight, and he stares off
toward the river with a thoughtful, brooding frown, arms folded across his
chest.

Alicia comes ambling up the path with a confident stride, chin lifted up,
eyes straight ahead. A thin layer of sweat glistens upon her skin, cheeks
red, slightly out of breath. "Hey Salem." She calls out, spying the
GlassWalker hanging near the fountain.

Salem glances up as his name is called, snapping himself out of his dour
line of thought. He gives the Gaian a faint but amiable smile and dips his
head slightly in greeting. "Evening, Alicia."

Alicia steps up next to him and rubs her hands together, popping joints in
her fingers. "Whatcha staring at dude?" She sinks down next to him,
peering into the direction he was gazing at.

Salem shakes his head. "Nothing, really. Just thinking. Nothing
important." He shifts his weight, stretching a mild kink out of his back.

"Aww. I'm just winding down from a jog myself. Figured I could use the
-fresh- air so to speak. So whats new on yer'side of town? Anything cool
happening?" Alicia asks, genuinely curious.

Salem's lips thin, the grim look returning. "Did you get the most recent
news about the hospital?"

"Jus' heard that ya'll went banging on its door, I have yet to hear about
the results. It was successful I hope?" Alicia turns to peer at you,
concerned by your expression. "Everyone made it out..right?"

Salem glances at her, one brow rising. "'Banging on its door'? No, not
precisely." He shakes his head. "One of the kin, a doctor, found his
patient missing and went after it after calling in... Seirian, Dane and
Yi. And Rina, too, who of course contacted John." He brushes back a lock
of hair that the wind's blown into his face. "They followed the trail to a
warehouse behind the hospital itself. It was a trap." Grim and growing
grimmer. "Everyone came out of it alive, but the new word is that _no one_
is to go to the hospital. That means us as well as kin." His voice lowers,
though it wasn't particularly loud to begin with. "They know us. And
they're waiting for us, like spiders in a web. _Exactly_ like spiders in a
web, or so I hear."

Alicia sucks in a deep breath. ".. Shit.. " Shaking her head, she reaches
back to untie the bundle of hair, allowing it to sprawl about her
shoulders. "I'm glad everyone made it out tho'. So, what -are- we ganna do
'bout the hospital in the mean time? We gotta do something..."

Salem shakes his head. "Don't know. For now, it's too dangerous.
Especially for kin." He grimaces. "Why is it always hospitals? Hospitals
and churches?"

"Because, its kinda sardonic in a way eh'? Hospitals and churches have
frequent visitors. Taint can get spread about -real- fast." Alicia murmurs
to herself. "So what is Alec ganna do in the meantime? Take a vacation or
something?"

Salem folds his arms across his chest again. "He'll have to. As I said,
last night was a trap. They took _his_ patient, and undoubtably intended
the trap for him. They'll be after anyone else of us who work there, too."
He pauses a moment, then utters a brief, utterly humorless laugh. "So much
for the Garou Nuns."

".. Shit, if they can detect our kin, we are in it deep now." Alicia wets
her lips and stands up, starting to pace about near by, scuffing her boots
into the dirt.

Salem purses his lips. "They may not be after the kin specifically.
They're probably targetting _all_ members of the staff. But that's hardly
a comfort."

Alicia nods. "I know, but the fact they -can- detect our kin is scary.
Since they typically show up as human ya'know? I mean, I can't detect
kin..."

Salem utters an 'mm' noise, gloved fingers scratching at his bearded chin
thoughtfully. "There are many ways they could have found out. This is
definitely a spirit problem, and there are spirits that can be used as
spies. Or perhaps they _do_ have a 'kin detector' of sorts." He exhales a
frustrated breath. "This isn't my field, however."

"Something Sepdet and Andrea should be made aware of. I wonder if they
have been contacted yet." Kicking a pebble out of the way, Alicia flops
back down next to him, drawing a knee up to her chest, resting against it.
"I wish I was there last night. I coulda helped."

Salem grimaces. "_You_ wish?" He pushes to his feet, shoving his hands
into his coat pockets and scowling at nothing in particular. "John was
locked out of the warehouse. He called me, but I arrived just too damn
late to do anything useful."

"Yah I wish. I may be a happy lil tree hugger, but I don't mind getting
dirty and down in it. I'm not a really nice person when it comes to
dealing with the Wyrm." A twitch of her lips rise upwards along Alicia's
face, clicking her tongue ring over her teeth. "Locked out? Couldn't ya
jus' bash it in, fuzzy style or something?"

Salem arches a brow. "Are any of us 'nice' people when dealing with the
Wyrm?" The Philodox gives his head a slight shake, looking at her as he
adds, "And John did break through, only by then the spirits had returned
to the Umbra. And with the moon being as thin as it is..." He trails off
significantly, leaving unsaid the fact that thin-moon Umbra near the
hospital could easily equate gory death.

"Yah... that sucks." Stretching up, she pops her back, yawning. "Well,
maybe we could go back during the full moon and tear some shit up eh'?
Ya'know, do a lil bit of good on our own preumbral turf."

Salem grunts. "Maybe. It's probably going to be less easy than that,
though that could simply be my cynicism talking." Mild touch of humor
there, very mild. "Bashing the problem with a rock is all well and good,
but the hospital's may be a much _bigger_ rock."

Alicia thinks for a moment on that. "Well, perhaps on the full moon we'll
bring more then enough firepower eh'? I dunno.. I'll talk to Andrea and
ask for her opinion on the matter."

Salem nods, then sits down again, hands pressed against the lip of the
fountain. His attention strays back toward the river. "Other than that,
there's nothing new to tell, as far as I'm aware, at any rate."

"Ok, beyond the hospital shit, what else is going on? You know when the
cubs are ganna Rite?" Fully curious, the Gaian peers at him.

"Within three months," Salem answers, still watching the river with a
frown.

Alicia nods her head again. "Ahh, good then. Well, I suppose I'll let you
go, you seem to have a lot on yer'mind and all. And I have to make sure my
own kin is ok."

Salem glances back at Alicia, and he manages a thin smile that doesn't
quite reach his eyes. "Good idea. Walk safe."

Alicia nods her head. "You stay safe ok? You need anything, yap on the
barking chain, I'll hear it." And she starts off on her own path.

Salem lifts a hand and rests two fingers against his temple in an odd kind
of salute. "Be seeing you," he says quietly.

[Later...]

Renee enters the glade in the middle of the open meadow.

Salem is seated on the edge of the fountain, arms folded across his chest.
He's staring at the river with a grim, thoughtful expression.

[Renee]

        A young girl, with shoulder length dark brown hair and eyes of a
similar colour. Standing, Renee is just over five feet tall and you'
probably guess her age to be somewhere between eleven and twelve. What
with her flat chest, scrawny legs, and arms. In truth, she is well past
her fourteenth birthday. The young girl's hair has been tied back in a
french braid, tidying it up and keeping it out of the way. This does not
hide the fact that Renee has not washed her hair in some time, as it is
visibly greasy. She is wearing a plain red t-shirt that is marred by a
mustard stain near her right shoulder and her legs are covered by a pair
of simple blue jeans. One denim knee is intact, while the second one seems
to have suffered the brunt of an earlier fall and is badly ripped.

        Never very far away, is Renee's backpack. Black, with blue designs
and bulging in unusual places. Several pencil crayons are visible, through
the clear plastic that serves as the backpack's rear pocket.

Renee makes her way toward the fountain, ignoring Salem. Paying more
attention the nearby garbage can, that is position next to the bench. She
roots through it, trying to see is there is anything salavagable inside.

Salem shifts his weight, the girl's prescence pulling him away from his
thoughts. He watches her, traces of a frown tugging at the corners of his
mouth. His scarred face holds more than a hint of suspicion.

Renee randomly removes thing from the trash can, making a face has she
comes across a rotting apple core. That too is tossed, landing relativly
close to Salem's feet. Some more digging reveals a disgarded McDonalds bag
and the uneated french fries inside. The girl sets these aside for later.

Salem's thin frown takes a firmer hold, turning into a grimace. He speaks
up, his voice quiet and perfectly calm, but with an audible undercurrent
of steely authority. "I _hope_ that you're planning to clean up after
yourself."

Renee looks up. She has a wallet in her hands this time. Probably dumped
in the trash, after being stolen and cleaned out. The girl squints at
Salem, having a ceretain amout of dissiculty seeing him clearly in the
dark. She shrugs, and goes back to digging after setting the wallet aside.

His grimace now grown into a full-fledged scowl, Salem picks up the apple
core near his feet and stands up, walking toward her, tall and dark and
obviously irritable.

Renee seems to sense Salem's apraoch and look up quickly. As he continues
to get closer, the girl pales. Damn, that guy is scary lookin'. She scoops
up the items she found in the trash and scampers out of the way, putting
the bench between herself and the Walker.

Salem stops a bare foot or so away from the trash can and drops the apple
core into it. His good eye remains fixed on the girl. "You're going to
come back over here," he says, in a voice that will stand for no argument.
"And you're going to pick up the trash that you've so carelessly flung
about on the ground. Understood?"

Renee looks between Salem and the trash can. She does this a few times,
before fixing on Salem's face. Nope, not a chance. The girl turns heel and
runs.

Salem is after her like a shot, long strides eating up the distance
between them in short order. The guy's fast -- frighteningly so, in fact.
Within moments, he's within reach, and an arm reaches out to grab the girl
by the back of her shirt.

Renee makes a terrified sound, somewhere between a squeak and a scream as
Salem grabs her. Turning around, she kicks his knee as hard as she can.
Not that this will have much affect, considering how small she is.

The snarl on Salem's face is only made uglier by the scars; the kick has
little more effect than to make him angrier. With a swift, businesslike
efficiency born from years of practice, he pulls the girl into a hold, one
arm around her neck. His voice growls into her ear. "Make another sound,
and you'll be sleeping for a long time, girl. So be quiet and _listen_."

Renee squeaks, but thats it. She stops squirming.

"Good." Salem's voice smooths now a bit now. "Now. I'm going to let you go
in a bit, and if you're wise, you won't pull another stunt like that.
You'll remain calm, return with me to that trash can, and pick up _every_
_piece_ of garbage that you dropped on the ground. Understood?"

Renee nods, remaining silent.

Salem says again, "Good. Are you going to be a good girl, then? Don't lie.
I can tell if you lie."

"Yes," the girls replies. Sounding meek and completly cowed.
Unfortunatally for her, Salem's gift detects the falseness of her
statment.

Salem hisses, "Liar," in the girl's ear and tightens his hold. He twists
the girl's arm painfully up against her back. "Try again."

Renee starts squirming again. "Ow. That hurts. Leggo."

"It'll hurt more if you keep struggling," Salem says, not loosening his
grip one iota. "I'll ask again. If I let you go, are you going to be a
good girl?"

"Fine, I'll be good!" Renee practically spits out and she actually means
it this time. Pain can be such a wonderful motivator.

And like magic, the pain's gone, though her arm's probably going to be
sore for a while. More importantly, she's free. Salem straightens up,
brushing down the front of his coat. "Good. Now, the trash." He gestures
toward the trash can and the litter scattered around it.

Renee rubs her sore arm, muttering to herself. She picks up the wallet and
bag of french fries, before heading back over to the trash can. Where she
begins to pick up the mess, keeping an eye on Salem as she does so.

Salem follows at a short distance, not more than a few feet, arms resting
at his sides, fingers flexing slowly. He watches Renee with an eagle eye,
stern and merciless.

Renee picks up the last of the trash and shoves it back into the can.
"Jerk," she mutters, loud enough to be heard. Snatching up the wallet and
fried, she turns to leave.

"Yes, yes," replies Salem, rather scornfully. "Poor baby. Go home, girl.
Next time, you'll meet someone worse."

Renee looks over her shoulder and glares at Salem, malice boiling just
under the surface. Her free hand clenches into a fist, before she manages
to bring her anger under control. Turning, she stomps off.

Salem folds his arms across his chest and watches her go, unmoved.