State of the City

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:12 Pacific Time on Thu Oct 25 2001.

Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (57% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 57
degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the east at 13 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.16 and
falling, and the relative humidity is 66 percent. The dewpoint is 46
degrees Fahrenheit (7 degrees Celsius.)

Location: Walker Safehouse

Salem's bootsteps thump down the stairs from the upper floor; the Philodox
has a paperback book in one hand and is... whistling? Something energetic,
operetta-esque.

John is seated in the rec room. The whistled opera clashes somewhat with a
soft Chopin, gradually more audible as the Philodox makes his way down the
stairs. Visible through the entrance to the rec room, John lounges in one
of the side chairs, reclining back and sipping from a bottle of mineral
water, as he listens to the music.

The whistling fades in the face of Chopin, vanishing entirely by the time
Salem appears in the doorway of the rec room. "Evening, John," he says
briskly.

John doesn't attempt to lever himself out of his seat. "Jack." he greets,
lowly, swirling the water in the bottle. His eyes slowly close again,
after looking the fellow Walker over.

Salem goes to the fridge to help himself to another bottle of water and
settles down at one end of the couch. "I'm glad I found you in, actually,"
he remarks, after opening the bottle and taking a swig.

John's eyes are on Salem even before they slowly flick open. "Oh?"

Salem balances the book -- which looks suspiciously like a novel -- on the
arm of the couch and nods. "You once mentioned that you were forming a
pack." He leans back, stretching his legs out before him and crossing them
at the ankles.

John inclines his head in agreement. "Should probably fill you in on what
you're being roped in on, hmm." he grunts, over the music.

One corner of Salem's mouth quirks upward. "That would be nice, yes," he
says, dry as deserts.

John takes a deep breath, and uses it to sigh, lightly.
"Information-gathering and manipulation pack. Not a fighting, scouting, or
whatever. The goal is to strengthen the interests of the Tribe, and then
the Sept, in human affairs."

Salem folds his hands together, index fingers steepled. "Interesting. And
suitable for Cockroach, as well."

John simply nods, slowly. "I have more tasks planned out than we can
possibly do at the one time, but I suspect things will move more slowly,
given the manpower constraints. Essentially... Electronic, Spiritual and
physical B&E. Gaining blackmail material and situational awareness using
supernatural means. Using that for political influence in human affairs.
Influencing beauracratic decisions where we can via any of those means. Or
diversion. Subversion. Hacking to alter memos. Whatever. Self-protection:
we could monitor anyone monitoring /us/, and alter their data. Plant
evidence. Destroy evidence. Create false identities. Feel like being an
FBI agent? I thought having a record as one might be handy. That's the
'general' purpose. There's more on the list in future expansion.
Basically, I want to know everything."

"Interesting," says Salem again, and beyond the usual reserved mask,
there's a definite glint of hunger in his good eye. The dry upward quirk
of his lips remains. "I like it. I like it a great deal, in fact."

Alec's grunts announce his presence. At least if the video cameras weren't
paying attention. With a crunch that sounds an awful lot like more books.
Won't Salem be pleased. "Bon soir gentlemen. How does the evening find
you?" Catching the last part of that Alec files the information away and
will comment on that later if asked. Looking at the two men they seem
ready for anything... Alec then realizes that he's dressed not much
differently.

John smiles slightly, inclining his head in agreement, to Salem, and then
looks up towards Alec as he dumps the box of what is probably books.
"Evening, Alec. Need a hand?"

Salem glances up at the noise from the lobby, that 'glint' vanishing, and
his expression reverting to something cool and reserved, but amiable. He
gives the kin a nod and echoes John's greeting. "Evening."

A shake of the head and Alec dusts his hands off. "Merci, but non, I am
fine thanks. I do no be going there after dark for practical sakes now.
The place is awash in spider webs. Neither Seirian nor I plan to go back
there atleast without each other." Alec's voice is flat, but there is a
little bitterness there. "I heard you making plans for intelligence
gathering?"

John shoots Salem a sideways glance, before looking back to the doctor
with a wry expression. "Should keep my mouth closed even around here, now,
perhaps." he grunts. "Yes. Forming a pack with the specific intent of
gathering information from humans, and manipulating them." He looks back
to Salem with a slight shrug.

Salem matches John's glance and raises an eyebrow, a bit of a rueful look
flicking across his face. His eye falls back on Alec, studying him.

There's a grin there on the Doctor's face as he shrugs. "Ah, but one
should be able to speak in his own home without the fear of being
overheard. An intelligence pack would be a good thing, something I think
suited to your tribe as it were. Add in a gnawer or two in the right
places and you might be looking at something formidable." He takes a seat
and from one of his many pockets pulls out a 3x3x3 inch box and hands it
towards John. "A gift, if you need it as thanks and repayment."

Salem's lips thin at mention of Bone Gnawers, but the change in expression
is so slight as to be almost unnoticeable. And it's gone by the time Alec
brings out the box. Salem sits up, his good eye following movement of the
object.

John gives Alec a faint smile, and reaches over to accept the gift. "I
have street contacts enough without needing to resort to using Bone
Gnawers." he murmurs, diplomatically, eyeing the box.

Inside the box is what looks like an alarm sensor. Exactly like an alarm
sensor, it even lights up and has a hook in the back to put up in the
corner of the wall. "When I was over in Kosovo, one of my fellow POW's was
a Walker Kinfolk. He had broken ribs and a busted leg. They let me take
care of him and when we got out he went home. A couple of weeks later he
came up north to my home and brought me this. His family were pleased to
say the least about their kin's safe return and that was their gift. It's
a sound neutralizer. My family didn't really approve of it at first
'weaver-thing' I'm sure you've heard before. I however think it's the best
thing since sliced bread. Any, and I have yet to find one that will work,
sound recording device or any such thing will not work when this is on.
The thing is as well, if it's on, and a person is standing behind a door,
they hear nothing as well. It kills the sound coming out of a room and
eliminates any recording device."

Both Salem's eyebrows lift, and he regards the device with an intent
expression. "_In_teresting," he says quietly. Impressed? Oh, yes.

Take a picture, it's probably the closest you'll get to seeing John
poleaxed. "Where... do these come from?" he asks, after staring at the
gadget, for a while, turning it over in his hands. He passes it to Salem
for the other Walker to examine and/or admire.

Alec says "Now," Alec amends, "It will no work on a stadium, or a whole
building. But a room like the basement, or some sort of war room it will
be effective on. It will also no work with video devices, but the video
will have no sound." Alec smiles as he shrugs. "My friend when I do ask
him tell me not to ask. I did manage to get from him on a visit I took to
see him that it was a gift to his furry kin from a Nuwisha." Alec shrugs
again, "Beyond that all I can figure is that it emits a counteracting
sonic pulse, two opposite soundwaves neutralize others. So there you go.
It also emits a subsonic pulse that futzes up any recording device's audio
input.""

Salem examines Alec's gift, handling the device with respectful care. At
mention of Nuwisha, he looks up sharply, with a slight frown, and then
hands the device back over to John.

John doesn't bat an eyelid at the mention. Though he does pause a little,
in his accepting of the device, apparently to think. He slips it back into
its box, and looks back to the doctor. "So. You seen your apartment, yet?"

Alec hands you a simple looking control box with a simple switch. On, Off.
"That controls it, don't ask me why, no powersource or anything of the
like that I could figure out and it wasn't broke...." He nods towards John
and shakes his head a couple of times. "Yes. It looks normal, except that
my toothbrush had cobwebs all over it, as did my tie rack. Their not
everywhere, but they are there. Little reminders I guess."

John lowers his head and shakes it a little, expression souring. "Letting
you come here might be a bad idea, if that's happened. All they need do is
watch where you go, and who you talk to. And that's us. Then all they need
to do is watch us." He sighs. "Jack. We might want to start stepping
sideways and clearing the building out, from tonight on. I don't want any
spiritual watchers who aren't on our team."

Salem steeples his fingers and nods solemnly. "Wise. The moon's waxing,
too."

Alec's face goes a little softer and he sighs himself. "Truth told I do
make sure I am not followed this side of the realm, but I can no be sure
of on the other side of the veil." Alec hmmm's quietly and shakes his
head. "I only truly need a place for my stuff. I can make my way out of
the city if need be." Alec's voice is reluctant at that. "But I did want
to talk to you about something else at the hospital that I think I can
help you with."

John's face only turns more ashen. The inevitable thought creeps up and
only seems to depress a little further. "Best for Walkers not to interact
with kin, til I've got some measure of reassurance in that department." he
murmurs, softly. There's a sad resignation in his voice. "That includes
Rina and Jeremy." He looks to Alec, grimly, waiting.

Salem gives John a long, significant, frowning look, before shifting his
attention back to Alec. He mutters something softly under his breath.

"From what I've been told, the couple of doctors from Neurology, the
surgeons. Are agents." And no not of The Matrix Kind. "I still have
privilege there and have a couple of legitimate patients that I've been
trying to keep out of their hands. I could arrange for a meeting with one
or two of them regarding her. It would be a relatively simple matter, if
they were still mostly human to arrange for them to meet with an untimely
end."

John inclines his head. "That's good, Alec, but I don't want to be killing
people out of hand. I want someone with the ability to give those people a
look-over, and make sure they're Wyrmy. I'd prefer the professionals to be
on the job, and while I respect your military experience, I want to be
quite sure that we don't have another excuse for materialization. Losing
you to the Wyrm would be... a very bad thing. You could do a lot of
damage, with your knowledge." He chews his lip a little. "That said, if
you can get them somewhere neutral, verify they are who we're after, and
then cap them with minimum fuss, or suspicion of your involvement, go for
it."

Salem purses his lips, listening thoughtfully. He nods in mute agreement
with John, but his expression is hooded, withdrawn and contemplative.

"Bien, I can understand that, now, the information about the surgeons
comes from Elan, that I'll take to the bank." Alec smiles and shrugs. I
have as they have of me. I know their names and other relevant
information. Any misdirection should be able to be tracked down by Jeremy
or one of your crew. "A phone call, a chance meeting and they could go for
a ride if you like. A quick trip to talk about one of their patients in
the morgue and they could end up in their own slab." Alec's voice is
chill... people he knew and worked with at one point or another. But he is
a doctor and surgeon in his own right, a simple matter to cut the tumor
from the flesh. "I have faith that any involvement that I could be
implicated in could simply go away anyways. Besides, who would think the
great war hero could do such a thing."

"Any half-way decent psychiatrist, or tabloid magazine." John grunts,
curtly, to the final rhetorical question. "Sure. I want /another/ check
done, though. Talk to a Theurge or whoever else has the knack. Kaz does. I
might try getting her to teach it to me." He settles back. "Act as soon as
you like. Wait too long and they might catch on. But you'll have
additional resources and backup in the form of the pack I'm putting
together."

"Never assume that you can be free from pointed fingers," Salem remarks,
stirring out of his thoughts and looking grim. "War hero or not."

Alec says "Fair enough, I'll see about getting in touch with her. As to
the rest of my stuff, I can take it to a U-Store-It or some other
warehouse type place as you like. I've already informed the hospital about
my leave of absence, 'Wedding Plans' you see. The administration is fine
with that, but I still have privilege there so I can come and go as I need
too." He sniffs once, running a hand through his hair he turns to Salem
and nods. "Oh trust me, used to that I am indeed. Look up some of the
garbage that came out when I came back." Reports that ranged from simple
misquoting to outright lies, and the subsequent retractions and apologies.
"Anyways gentlemen," Alec says standing up. "I have a few message to
deliver, so I thank you again John for the place to put my stuff. Let me
know what you decide as to the status for here and myself.""

John frowns. "You stay where you are safest." he murmurs. "That's what I
decide. If that's with Seirian, or here with us, that's where you stay.
Hopefully, we should soon have the place even safer. I'd love to say that
you'd be safe without us around, living just 'somewhere else', but I have
no idea what those things are capable of. So can't. I prefer to err on the
side of caution, Alec. Hope you see it that way. So. Enjoy your evening,
but be careful. Public places should still be reasonably safe."

Salem murmurs, "Safer than the alternative, in any case." He straightens
up, picking up his neglected bottle of water and taking a drink from it.

Alec nods and turns towards Salem, "Merci encore." Back to John, "I will
keep you apprised of the situation as it happens for me." The request for
the reciprocal is not said, but implied nonetheless. "Bon soir gentlemen,
may your night be as you desire it." With that little bit of formality he
heads out to the lobby and out the door.

Salem nods once. "Walk safe," he says to the departing kin.

John looks to Salem, and reaches to switch on the anti-bug device. Putting
it down on the ground, by his chair, he reaches to take his own water
bottle. The Ahroun seems to be quietly waiting for something from the
Philodox.

Salem takes another swallow of bottled water. After a few moments'
silence, he gives John a quizzically-arched eyebrow. "Yes?"

John shrugs dismissively, and settles back in the chair, taking a mouthful
of water. "Thoughts?"

Salem swishes the water around in the bottle with a thoughtful air. "Once
we're assured of both physical and spiritual security, this will be the
safest place for kin... cityside, at any rate. Within the Bawn itself
would be safer. If we could stow them right in the caern, I'd feel secure,
but that's not advisable for any number of reasons. Obviously." He frowns
for a moment. "Clarify for me. As far as we know, the enemy at the
hospital went after Dr. St. Jean because he worked at the hospital, _not_
because they knew he was kin. Yes? No?"

John shakes his head mildly, taking another small mouthful of water. "I
couldn't tell, from their account. Apparently the Bad Guys weren't
surprised by the Garou shifting, or Alec being accompanied by them." He
looks grim. Grey. "So I have to assume they knew. There were enough of
them that they might have succeded with a couple fewer fighters. I don't
know. Apparently they nearly /did/ succeed, if they were only going after
Alec."

"Shit," replies Salem, quietly. "They've probably been watching _all_ the
hospital personnel." Frowning, the Philodox glances upwards, then at the
sound-killing device. "We need to start patrolling the Umbra around here.
Nightly."

John nods a few times, murmuring just as quietly, back. "That's what I
meant. I'm thinking... if something's small enough just to watch... we get
Kaz. She has the Call of the Wyrm. She can make them come to us, if
they're anywhere nearby. Ambush. We can stomp them, afterwards. In the
meantime... I'd prefer that the kin were kept safe." From the way he says
it, it's clear he really only means one kinfolk woman in particular. "I'll
ask Frankie, tomorrow, to start work on a garden on the roof. And we'll
start transplanting some Wyld spirits to watch over it. Or at least alert
us to the presence of anything that watches. I talked to Sepdet about this
maybe a week ago, and she thinks it'll work."

Salem grunts and nods, taking another swallow. "A shame Nigel isn't around
anymore," he remarks. He glances at the Ahroun. "Theurge, City Farmer
camp. Garden rooftops would be his specialty. But I suppose we'll make do
without him."

John hitches a shoulder. "Francisco has the gift. That's why I'll put it
to him." The Ahroun smiles faintly, amusing himself with a thought. "Maybe
I should get him a book on Feng Shui, and turn the rooftop into a
meditation and sparring ground. A miniature dojan. They have the
healthiest auras, in the shadow."

Salem's lips twist into a crooked, tight-lipped smile. "Perfection."

John sucks on a tooth and then takes another swallow of water. "Welcome to
phase one of a war that should last for a few years: Building up the
defenses." He shakes his head a little. "This should never have been
allowed to happen." he adds, softly.

"No," Salem agrees. "The church, the power plant... now the sewers and the
hospital." His lips thin. "Red Man, Spider-shifters, Spirals, Ice King..."
He takes another swig. "I've done a bit of research, and I can tell you
that this city's one damn crisis after another. I'm not surprised the
hospital's gotten to this state. Which reminds me." He sits up, looks at
John. "What _is_ the status of the power plant, these days? Spiritually?"

John looks up and shakes his head a little. "I haven't sent anyone to
check it out. I have this idea that it's been dealt with, and that there's
a guardian there, but I've only been here seven months, now. It's ancient
history, according to these people, and not talked about. I might ask
Elan. He seems to know a lot about the spiritual history of this place."

Salem gets that 'look' at mention of Elan -- lips thinned, a quick flicker
of distaste, quickly gone. "Hmn. Someone should check it out. It would be
par for the course if, while our back was turned, something took up nest
there again."

John lifts a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Sewers'll be slipping.
You know they're infested, right? S'been a while since we went down
there." He shakes his head again. Damn, but this is just... too
unbelievable. This place /needs/ a City Caern. I brought it up at the
Elder meeting and everyone very nearly went ballistic. 'Oh no, that'll be
too hard, and the city's a hole, anyway'. Precisely why we need one.
However."

"The idea's been brought up before," says Salem, with a grimace. "More
lovely St. Claire history. During a period where city and non-city Garou
were... estranged. Long before my time. But, yes. I'm not surprised at
their reaction. Though, we would not _need_ a caern if more Garou would
stop pissing on trees for a bit and--" He cuts off, his expression rueful.
"Old rant. You've no idea how many times I've heard it."

John wrinkles his nose briefly. "You've no idea how many times I've said
it. Nothing new." he grunts. "Maybe I can convince the Alpha's pack to
work here, dedicating their time to city cleanup. Andrea seems to be more
favourably inclined to think of the city as part of the sept's
responsibility. That helps. Sepdet has stated an intent - to me - to move
her pack here to deal with hospital-related tasks, full-time."

Salem nods, smiling thinly. "That's a bit of good news, at least."

John tips his head back and drains the water-bottle. Wiping his mouth on a
gloved hand, he sighs, "I better call Rina."

Salem swirls around the last of his -- a few mouthfuls, probably. He nods
again. "I'll be here for the rest of the evening, most likely."

John flips out his cell-phone and starts tapping up a message on it.
"Unless there's something incredibly ugly waiting for us in the shadow,
and we both die, that is?" He looks to Salem, expectantly, as he starts to
rise. "You up for kicking the shit out of a few pattern spiders, and
whatever lies beyond?"

"Naturally," Salem replies, taking another swallow of bottled water.

John finishes his water, and moves to but the bottle on the bar. Still
tapping a short message away on his cell, as he moves. "Right." he grunts.

Salem's gaze follows John across the room for a moment, then moves away.
He takes another sip, then one-handedly opens the paperback to a
bookmarked spot in the middle.

John hovers over the cell for a little longer, biting his lower lip in
apparently nervous thought. And then he hits the send button, and slips
the thing into his jacket pocket. "Alright." he rumbles. "I'll go have a
look, now. See you on the flipside, whenever you feel like it." With that,
he starts stalking towards one of the mirrored walls of the rec room.

"One moment," says Salem, closing the book and getting up. "I'll join
you." He finishes off the last of the water and follows after the ahroun,
his step brisk.

John looks over his shoulder at the Philodox, and then looks back to the
mirror-- tilting his chin up, as he stares into his own eyes, almost as if
challenging himself. A few moments later, as Salem approaches, he slips
through the gauntlet, into the shadow.

Salem takes a deep breath, then stares grimly at his reflection. His
passage through the barrier is slow; he arrives in the Umbra several
minutes after the ahroun, and looking irritable to boot.

[Handwaved: John and Salem clear out some webs.]