War Meeting: Day Two (Plus After)

[hazlogs]

It is currently 18:19 Pacific Time on Tue Jun 4 2002.

Currently the moon is in the waning Crescent Moon phase (39% full).

Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 65
degrees Fahrenheit (18 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in
from the east at 7 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.14 and
falling, and the relative humidity is 67 percent. The dewpoint is 54
degrees Fahrenheit (12 degrees Celsius.)

Meadow by Lake Arthur

A large, open meadow spreads out before you, sloping down on one side to
the shore of a clear blue lake.  Scrawny field grasses sway slightly in a
gentle breeze; scattered clumps of trees stand like outposts for the
surrounding forest.  Deer tracks crisscross the meadow, forming a network
of lines through the grass.  The deep forest of the northwest spreads out
on three sides, balanced by the clarity of the crystalline lake.

To the west, the meadow slopes down to a rocky beach on the shore.  An
ill-kept dirt road enters the meadow from the north, marks a curving line
between grass and trees along the meadow's northeastern border, and veers
eastward.  A bumpy trail, scarred with the tracks of a dirtbike, forks
away from the main road and passes beneath the trees to the southeast.  
Several overgrown trails lead off into the deeper forests to the south and
southwest.


Kaz asks, "Worse?"

Pack> Salem says "So, what happened after I logged out last night?"
Pack> Salem says "And did we camp out or what?"
Pack> John says "If it's OK with you, Salem, Rina'd have taken you home or
something and forced you to sleep someplace."

The Get snarls, angrily. Forest silent, waiting. Then... I found the
darkness. Its arm. I followed to see how far out it could reach. But it
saw me. Came after me.

Kaz shivers. "Yeah, ok. It was slower'n you, though, or'd you do summat
clever?"

John pauses in his carrying of the Strider, to listen closely. First-hand
accounts of the enemy? Worth waiting for.

Chaser winces. Took everything. It was...

Kaz leans forward slightly. "Was...?"

The green eyes narrow, looking for a moment to the Gnawer's. It was close.
Very, very close. You understand? Don't know what was chasing me. Just
ran. Until I could not run any farther.

Kaz nods, shortly. "Ok. Yeah." After a pause, she adds, "Glad you're here,
boss. Anything else that'd be useful to know, you think?"

John simply remains standing and listening, ice blue eyes narrowed and
focussed on the Get.

The wolf wrinkles her nose, baring teeth for a moment in a lupine scowl.
The darkness has a long reach. Outside that, the scrags, and beyond them
the glass banes. As soon as the darkness had me... there was a pack after
me. They knew from /it/... where to go.

John murmurs softly, "Totem, perhaps."

Kaz blinks. "Oh, that /is/ important. Fuckin' A. D'you got blur an' shit?
Can it see through gifts?"

Chaser snarls softly. Split from the Wendigo because *I* could not fuel my
gifts any longer. We had not encountered anything, yet, when we split.

Kaz blinks. "So yeah, ok, it's fuckin' terrfyin' an' it sucks energy? What
/fun/."

The timber wolf tenses, shoulders tightening. No. Gifts just do not last
forever. And I am not... strong with the spirits.

Kaz says, "Oh. Ok." She glances restlessly toward the woods. "Can we go
bug the Wendigo? He wants to do planning shit. An' he needs sane people
to, well, ground his ass."

John shakes his head slowly, sighing. "We'll see," he murmurs, before
turning again. "Fire. We need more fire." He paces off in the direction of
what is probably a parked van. Carrying Tatt.

Salem stalks up from the dirt road, tails of his coat flapping back in the
breeze.

Chaser growls, and jerks her chin at the Gnawer. I go with you?

Kaz nods. "Way yes. I want everyone /else/ to pick your brain, too."

John jerks a head at Salem, as he approaches. "Meeting. Gonna go, or watch
Tatt for me?"

Salem turns his head; John's reflected in the same dark glasses he was
wearing last night. He looks, well, better. Not great, but better. "I'll
go," he says quietly.

The reply is a short grunt. "Good."


Great Room -- A-frame(#3654RJ$)

The lofty ceiling of this a-frame cabin gives the relatively modest space
an open feel. The panels of windows on the front of the house run the full
two stories, inviting the evergreen woods around the building inside. The
main floor of the home is almost entirely one large great room whose main
foci are the large, stone hearth at the center of the back wall of the
house opposite the front door and the wide staircase following the exposed
log beams of the ceiling up to the loft above.

The furniture is rustic but comfortable and decidedly well-made. Three
sofas form a 'u' facing the hearth (where other modern homes would have a
television) with a matching coffee table in the middle atop an Native
American print woven blanket. The decorator left ample room to move around
the room, appearing to have preferred space to furniture.


Sepdet snorts at Jarred and moves towards the hearth. "And hello to you
too. Now then." She folds her arms, looking expectantly towards the door.

There's the sound of a truck nearby. And then Kaz pushes the door open,
not bothering to knock, a rangy wolf beside her.

John comes through the door after the Gnawer and the Get. His own
Tribesmate in tow.

Owen Hollsinger lumbers across the room, finding himself a place to park
himself beside Sepdet. He flumps down on the floor and sits there in
silence for the time being.

Chaser limps along beside Kaz, both hind legs badly burned. She looks
decidedly grouchy.

Jarred looks down to where Owen now sits on the floor, regaring him for a
long moment before letting his eyes wander elsewhere.

Salem takes off his hat once inside the house, rolls it up, and stuffs it
into a coat pocket. The dark glasses stay on. He lurks close to John.

Yi slips in after the entire crew of Walkers, Gnawer and Get. The no-moon
finds a spot nearby the corner that'll give her a good view and not be too
intrusive.

Sepdet takes her place at the hearth as people settle, turns to the room,
and begins to speak in a firm, clear voice, gaze swinging from one to the
next.

Sepdet says, ~We have a task before us. This is the task we dared not
dread in our worst nightmares, the task we were born and trained for: to
defend one patch of Gaia against all odds. Every battle, every crisis we
have faced was a rehearsal for now.

        We have one option: victory.

        Our lives have become simple. Everything comes down to this: what
can you do? And how can it hope the cause? How can you support your
septmates and win this war?

        There is one thing we cannot do: fight among one another. Our
battle is desperate enough without turning on one another. Those who wish
to do so, or act without the sept's interests at heart, may take
themselves to the bawn right now and at least have a chance of taking down
an enemy or two before getting themselves killed. Am I understood?~

Kaz says, "Loud an' clear, 10-4, good buddy."

Owen Hollsinger just peers up at Sepdet without turning his head to do so.
He doesn't say a word.

Jarred speaks up. "... as long as you don't construe disagreement with
foolhardy plans as infighting, Sepdet-Rhya. Some of us aren't certain that
chest-beating and war drums will get us our caern back. To be frank,
that's about all I've heard, lately."

John eyes Jarred sideways. "Jarred. Unless you are to provide
/constructive/ criticism, I'll agree with you on that. But the only time I
have heard you speak at the last few gatherings we have both been at, it
has been to denounce what is being done or planned, without any
constructive alternatives. At all."

A quiet growl comes from the burned and bloodied Get Ragabash: a warning.
Let the Strider speak.

Yi crouches by her chosen shadowed corner, listening, watching and with
her back against the large wooden timbered wall. She waits for the plans,
sniffing the bloodscent in the air, but not looking towards the fostern
Ragabash.

Jarred shrugs at John. "I denounced it because it was half-cocked and
hastily planned." He then returns his attention to the the elder Strider.

Sepdet looks towards Jarred. ~And that's why I won't have it. From
/anyone/.~ There's definitely an unspoken message in that statement. ~Now
then. A great deal of news was shared last night that should be summarized
for those who couldn't attend. But first, Chaser, let's hear what you
saw.~

There is a light rasping sound at the door before it opens, Aubrey peeking
her face inside the doorframe before she sees a few familiar faces and
steps into the room. She lightly gives a tug at Cameron's shirt sleeve as
she drags him along in with her. "Sorry we are a bit tarty," she murmurs,
since they hadn't agreed to meet up here to begin with. The meeting
certainly comes as a light surprise to Aubrey.

Chaser's hackles go up briefly, and then settle. The singed wolf begins
the telling: The Wendigo Young-Bear and I scouted the Umbra. Using gifts,
but I did not have the spirit-strength to keep mine alive for more than an
hour. We went as far as the Bawn, and shortly after that we separated.

Cameron grumbles quietly, "Speak for yourself, I'm tar/dy/..." but
otherwise stumbles into the room with as little disruption as possible.

Sepdet actually smiles faintly as two of the Terrible Trio put in an
appearance and waves them towards a free corner of sofa. But the Get
definitely has her attention.

Yi squats at one of the darker corners by the wall nearest the entrance,
watching Chaser relate her report. The Gnawer newmoon declines from even
remotely relaxing while she's in here, though. Mention of Little Bear just
makes her tenser.

The Get wolf snarls quietly. Without the Gift, I approached from the
south. There was nothing, but as I went closer, inside the Bawn, suddenly
the woods went very silent. A bad stillness. A waiting stillness. Six
minutes of running out from the caern's center, I saw the first bane. A
scrag, watching and guarding. I avoided its notice and began to circle the
center, to find out if there were more. A ring of them, probably.

Aubrey smiles towards Sepdet and gives another hank at Cameron's shirt
sleve has she drags him along with her towards the sofa. She seems to be
also attentive to the report given by Chaser. Settling quietly on the
cushions, she leans forward a bit as she listens to the Get.

Jamethon spies unobtrusivly, or at least as unobtrusivly as the big Get
can manage, in the corner listening to the one time Get jarl.

Chaser bares her teeth. Then I saw the darkness spirit that the others
spoke of. An arm of darkness coming out from the direction of the Caern.
If it went that far, the creature has several miles of reach or more. I
kept a distance and tried to follow it out, to see how far it went. But it
saw me and came toward me, very fast. I ran south. Then I heard howling
from the direction of the Caern. Pursuing. I can only assume that the
Wendigo was seen, at some point.

Sepdet crooks a finger quietly towards Yi, not interrupting the tale. ~He
was,~ she says shortly.

Owen Hollsinger mutters to himself, probably something not very pleasant.

Cameron murmurs quietly, towards Sepdet, "He OK?"

Chaser glances to Sepdet, eyes narrowed slightly.

Sepdet nods curtly. ~He'll heal in time.~

Yi eyes her pack alpha, but stays still as a statue. He'll heal. Well,
good news... amidst this report.

Jamethon pipes up now, a simple question asked in a just wondering tone.
"Anything else? Like numbers of enemies, big or small, or how far out it
followed you before it gave up the chase? Something to work with?"

Chaser snarls quietly. There is a great deal more, young one. The dark
spirit must have told them where their quarry was, spoken to them. I heard
spirits and maybe Dancers, coming toward me from several directions. A
glass bane hit me somewhere, and the darkness... it did not follow me as
far south as the pool. I ran for the pool... because in the Umbra, I am
not the strongest fighter.

Jarred mutters to himself, seemingly lost in thought. "...glass..."

Jamethon nods to this and seems a big on edge about the idea of glass
banes. "I believe the city had a problem with glass banes a while back,
yes?"

The Get wolf looks across at Sepdet. I crossed through at the pool. To
fail meant they would have me. The pool put out the burning. Probably from
a fire spirit, or a Dancer summoning fire. They pursued me far down into
Wolf Woods, once we crossed to the Realm. I only lost them because I know
the land there as well as I do.

John rumbles lowly, "I had a problem with glass banes... not the city.
Nasty-assed fucks. Went invisible, amplified pain to unreasonable levels,
and were capable of altering shape or blowing parts of themselves up,
shrapnel-wise. Like a shotgun. Damn near killed me, then nearly made me
lose my eyes."

Owen Hollsinger just grunts, having pulled out his knife in the telling of
the story and currently busying himself with sharpening it, at the mention
of the pursuit into Wolf Woods.

Sepdet nods. ~I think others have reported the glass banes. And that
darkness bane is what detected Bear and sent the Dancers after him. it's
their sentinel.~

Yi simply nods once with Sepdet's look towards her, listening to the
various voices and reports going around. She doesn't really have much to
add at the moment.

Jamethon thinks on this. "Their... totem?"

Chaser's hackles lift. Then their sentinel has long arms, and speaks to
them. Or speaks to spirits who are its minions.

The wolf begins to pace, restless and angry. Probably their totem. Yes.
What is more important is the word from Ourobouros, of when they will
attempt their filthy Rite.

Sepdet grimaces. ~Several words. Let me quickly review what was shared
last night for those who were not present; then we can finally lay plans.

Chaser snarls an agreement, pacing across the doorway and back.

Owen Hollsinger might indeed have a question just now, but after Sepdet
speaks he just returns to sharpening.

Yi swallows back a question, expecting her question to be answered with
Sepdet's report.

Sepdet says, ~First. Here's what Andrea's pack reported of the caern from
their scouting. There is a sniper stand on the south bawn manned by a
fomor with night goggles, communications gear. The land is untainted, but
heavily damaged; the wreckage makes good cover.~ She scowls. ~The heart of
the bawn is a maze of tripwires and traps. Fallen trees form a barricade
around the caern itself. They saw bane patrols in the umbra, but not of
spirits too impressive, however, as Chaser says, the umbra is well
guarded. Ouroboros was using invisibility talens and other gifts to get
that close.~

Aubrey slowly nods to Sepdet in conformation to the same news that she had
heard the night before. Then she looks across to Cameron for a moment,
giving a light tilt of her head before her attention swings back towards
the Strider.

Sepdet says, ~Second. Intelligence. The enemy's Ritemaster was killed by
Seeker the night the caern fell, leaving them in some disarray. Their
alpha is adren ahroun. They plan attacks on the Rialto and Junkyard at the
no-moon, which we can ambush. They plan a rite to desecrate the caern at
next full, which Andrea means to attack, since they will be distracted.~
She raises her chin. ~Failure there is not an option. Finally, she
believes they will hit Lake Arthur as well, in which case, she is
preparing a ritual there to turn the Gauntlet into a one-way trip to
Erebus for any tainted that step across. I'm not sure whether we will have
to catch and force them there, or whether she can force them to come to
her, using the names of those her pack overheard. I have not had a chance
to discuss the rite's specifics with her.~

Chaser growls softly. Is it possible to force them to cross the Gauntlet
by Calling the Wyrm? Or does the call not reach across the Gauntlet?

Yi finally says something, her question maybe interrupting all this. "What
did Little Bear find out?"

Sepdet says, ~He made it near the caern without encountering any spirits
until the darkness intercepted him and roused the Dancers against him.
Then he fled.~

Jarred stares through a nearby window at the tree just outside it. To know
one in particular he asks, "So. We plan attacks on the upcoming Rite, the
junkyard and the Rialto. Do we have any idea how many Dancers we're
planning to attack? Or better yet. Do we even know how many of us there
are who can fight?"

Owen Hollsinger adds with a short grunt, "He found pain."

John takes a breath. "I have something of a list of those who have
volunteered their services, and wish to be notified when a battle is to
take place. If you wish to hear it. I believe you're on it, Jarred."

Yi bristles involuntarily at Owen's comment, but settles back further,
nearly invisible in the shadows.

A low, suppressed growl comes from Chaser's throat. I also have a list of
the capable, as does Kaz. We are not certain of their numbers. I believe
it may be a good strategy to use their pursuit of intruders to isolate
smaller groups of banes, and lead them into ambush.

There is a light knocking upon the door from outside, three short taps.

Jarred nods once to John.

Sepdet moves to the window, pushing the edge of a curtain back to see who
it is. Damn solid wooden doors. Sepdet shoots over her shoulder, ~They'll
probably send parties equivalent to what they did for the Safehouse, plus
a few more. Remember also they have fomori.~

Chaser bares her teeth. The snipers are probably fomori. Do we know if
they have silver?

Owen Hollsinger huffs. "Oh, they have silver. Count on it."

Alicia is standing at the door, sliding in a piece of string into her
pocket. She glances up at the door, then over her shoulder a few times.

John grunts, "The party sent to the safehouse was small. Pitiful, even, if
we were properly prepared for an attack. Surprise was their advantage,
though we killed them all. The snipers that were on the roof of the
safehouse had silver, but damned if I know how they got up there."

Chaser would expect the snipers to be armed with heavy silver rounds. I do
not think those from Ouro saw the nature of the guns or identified them.

Growling quietly in thought, Chaser adds: If we divide forces between the
Junkyard and the Rialto, and put into place a fast way to send an alarm
from one to the other... they may attack both at once, or separately with
more strength. Either way, we need to take advantage of the attacks. Can
the Rialto be made into a firetrap?

Aubrey folds her arms as she looks across the room. "I believe that the
Junkyard is more prepared than any place." she says softly. "Fang house
has got a shit load of silver, while the junkyard has the machinery. I am
not sure who is actually in charge at that end." she mumbles.

Yi just comments, "It's easy to get on the rooftops." Gaia knows Yi is up
there constantly when she has nothing better to do. "There were only two
Dancers in the safehouse upstairs. Maybe there were more coming, until we
blew it up." Ouch, is that bitterness in the Gnawer's voice? Yeah, it is.

Salem is silent. Listening, probably, arms folded and chin lowered; he's
hardly moved since the meeting began. He could possibly be dozing on his
feet, but with the sunglasses on, it's difficult to say.

Jarred snorts. "Made into one? It's a wonder the place is standing as it
is. Wouldn't take much to bring it down, I'd imagine."

The wolf turns, to pace the length of a wall. But we need to trap them
inside. Keep them from escaping. Trap them and kill them.

Standing just in front of Salem - also with his arms folded - John frowns.
"I'd rather not destroy the Rialto," he rumbles. "It's a wonder they
picked it at all, but all the same... if it brings down a great number of
Dancers, only then would a trap be worth it."

Sepdet shakes her head. ~Not from what I heard.~

Alicia lets out breath and knocks on the door again, still standing
outside. She can hear voices inside, but she isn't one to just barge in.

Owen Hollsinger grumbles. "Rialto has a history." He pauses for a moment.
"We may need Drano if they're to come out of the plumbing."

Yi glances to the door again, waiting for Sepdet's door opening or
subsequent alarm of the meeting being stormed by Dancers too. "If you want
to make traps of these places, then try to make them without destroying
the place. We have lost enough havens in the city as it is." Her eyes go
to the Strider at the door.

Sepdet lets Alicia in with a wave. "Pull up some floor." At Yi's remark,
she puts in, ~The Princess has pointed out one place we haven't yet used
for a base which may serve, for the moment. The city zoo was closed some
years ago. It's not pleasant, but the enemy won't know we go there.~

Kaz comes back from where she can't be reached by telephone, and lounges
against a wall.

Owen Hollsinger can't help but chuckle at the irony of using the zoo.

Chaser growls, turning her attention to Yi. The Caern is lost. We will
regain it or die trying. Little else matters. If we lose, the scab-places
will not matter. If we sacrifice and defeat them, any price is worth
paying to preserve Gaia's temple.

Aubrey bites her lip for a moment as she looks across to Sepdet, "Might
want to chase out all the pot-smokers that hang out there." she mutters.
Does the girl know of the place? No, really.

Alicia heads inside and glances to all, then ambles her way over towards
Salem to sit down.

Yi shakes her head. "That's not my point. Don't you see a pattern here?
First the caern is lost. We run to the city, to the Walker safehouse. Then
the safehouse is lost. We run to the Rialto. Now they want to take the
Rialto." Her voice gets tenser, angrier. "You can run all you like, to the
zoo, behind a Cage. They'll find us. We have to bring it to them."

Chaser snarls. We cannot keep running. I spoke of attack. Scab-places do
not matter, next to killing Dancers.

Kaz, Rialto territory holder, clears her throat. "That's what you got
ambushes for, Yi. You know where they're gonna strike... You make 'em
fuckin' /pay/."

"Hence my suggestion that no-one live in the Rialto anymore, but rather
find places to sleep in lupine form. In the woods. Or in hotels in the
city. Staying split up, but in contact, seems our best choice at the
moment. I've got my Tribe doing as much now." John looks back towards
Salem, and unfolds his arms a moment to take a few paces closer.

Kaz notes, "Ain't no one livin' there /now/."

Owen Hollsinger's chuckling comes to a dead end at the sound of the snarl.
He looks up from his knife at Chaser in silence.

John pages: Which is where I murmur to you, "Just a thought. You got Truth
of Gaia?"
John pages: Oh, and, "I've been wondering how our plans and safehouse
locations have been leaked. Haven't you?"

The Get wolf paces, her burned tail twitching in anger. She growls softly
to herself, thinking bloodthirsty thoughts, speaking some of them. We must
split them and strike. If they do not divide forces, we must divide for
them. Use their sentinels against them. Use the places they attack, make
them deathtraps for the enemy.

Salem's head lifts, a little too quickly, as John murmurs to him. He
shifts his weight, grimacing, and nods to the other Glass Walker.

Sepdet nods. ~All right. So. We need specifics. Let's take the Rialto
first. What are its possible entrances? Where are places to hide an
ambush? And how can those who enter be penned in?~

Chaser glances over to Kaz, falling silent.

Leonard slips in the door quietly, wearing his glabro form. He moves
stiffly, holding his upper body as still as possible, and takes up
position in the back of the room near the door, listening.

John adds midly, over his shoulder to the group, in the middle of a turn.
"There are other plans to be developed in the way of diversions and traps.
I'd like to know just how they're getting intel on us so quickly, and have
a few tests to run."

The metis grins, just slightly. "Do you want the Rialto, or the Junkyard?
'Cause I got a Kin that's been makin' flamethowers, and mines, over in the
Junkyard."

Chaser looks toward the door, and her hackles rise slightly. She returns
her attention to Kaz, though.

Jarred breathes in, suddenly, as if waking from a dream. "This sentinal
spirit they seem to rely upon so heavily. Could a group of theurges summon
it to a remote location so that we could either command it or destroy it?"

Alicia shifts a bit on her knees as she pulls one to her chest, leaning
against it. Eyes glancing about to each of them, she listens to the ideas
being tossed about by the higher ups and Ahrouns, wondering what will be
decided upon.

Owen Hollsinger looks away from the lone lupus here towards the newly
arrived Wendigo. If he had hackles right now, they'd be standing, too.

Leonard ignores the hostility for the time being, trying to get a sense of
the conversation.

Aubrey shifts her feet as she looks over towards Jarred, and gives Cameron
a light jab in the ribs to see if he is paying attention.

Salem unfolds his arms long enough to lock his fingers behind his neck,
stretching the muscles of his shoulders and back. He gives Alicia a glance
and a wan twitch of something that might be a smile, and then redirects
his attention to the meeting in general; his hands vanish into his coat
pockets.

Cameron gives a mild grunt of annoyance to Aubrey, as he stirs. Paying
attention, alright. He was busily watching Leonard enter the room. And was
busy frowning, too.

Jarred picks up on the negativity in the room, all right. His face twists
with annoyance. "I seem to recall Sepdet-Rhya saying something about us
sticking together? Little Bear risked his life to get more information
about what we're facing here. Anyone who has problems with him has
problems with me. And I'm not even close to joking...."

Sepdet holds Leonard's gaze sharply for a moment, then returns to the
question at hand. She's just moving back from the door to her usual post
by the now-cold hearth. ~There's a remote possibilty, if we could discover
its name. Very difficult. Something to look into, though. As is our leak.~
She nods to John. ~Let's deal with one thing at a time, though. All right,
Junkyard, since you've got kin. What can we do to catch them there?~

John murmurs mildly, "Calm down. People might be annoyed that he risked
more than his own life, perhaps, Jarred. But this is another matter." He
looks to Kaz a moment, at mentions of the Junkyard. "Actually, I've never
had the pleasure of inspecting the junkyard for myself. Kaz?"

Chaser flicks an ear. Her attention remains focused on Sepdet, and Kaz.
She paces across to stand close to the Strider's side, moving stiffly.

Owen Hollsinger snarls at no one in particular, his sharpening now
interrupted. Instead he stabs himself in the thigh through a hole in his
jeans that seems to have been made by doing this before and lets the knife
stay there, wobbling a bit as he moves. He then returns to listening,
leaving the knife as is.

Leonard pulls himself up onto the kitchen counter with a gritting of
teeth, but doesn't respond to Jarred's defense or any other comments.

Alicia lightly groans to herself as she listens to the others grump back
and forth to each other. Reaching behind her, she slips a rubberband off
her wrist and ties up her hair into a pony tail, allowing it to flop along
behind her.

Yi sniffs once, when Leonard enters. Her expression hidden is but all the
same, she doesn't look nearly as approachable as she normally is.

Kaz nods at John's comment, but otherwise ignores Leonard and starts
talking. "Well, like I say, he's got flamethrowers, and he's got explodin'
mines. Th' place is kinda twisty, and /we/ know which directions it twists
in. Got a few good hidin' spots, an' Lance has it set up so there's a
fuckload of cars we can jump 'em from. Only problem is, lotta flat, glassy
kinda bits, so there's a lotta Umbra t'flee into. Rialto, now, it's got a
/few/ sewer entrances, but we know where they are, can be watchin' 'em.
It's got a lotta back entrances, but we can hammer them up. Th' downstairs
has a few rooms, an' we could prolly isolate some've the fuckers in
separate rooms. An' if we get 'em upstairs, there's the catwalks an' shit,
an' Andrea an' co said they don' look up too often. It's got a few
mirrors, but we can break all but one of 'em, if we wanna trap 'em that
way."

Owen Hollsinger watches the knife stuck in his thigh sway back and forth
for a moment. "I would think seeting both up as an ambush might be best.
Leaving one vacant may cause the other to be too wary. Assuming they are
planned simultaneously."

Kaz shrugs. "Do we wanna put the /people/ into both? Breakin' up th'
forces sometimes ain't a good idea."

Chaser growls a soft agreement with the other Get. We can, given instant
communication between the two. Totem spirit maybe.

The timber wolf then looks over to Owen suspiciously, unsettled to be
agreeing with him. She shifts her attention back to Sepdet, nosing at the
Strider's knee. You have totem speech?

Sepdet looks to John and Owen. ~I defer to the ahrouns on that: divide, or
choose one? Note that they don't know we are expecting them. Ouroboros
managed to overhear their plans without being spotted.~

Jarred grits his teeth. "We are /not/ going to win back our caern by booby
trapping doors and leaping out at Dancers from random beat-up cars in some
fetid junk yard that's probably more Wyrm-tainted than the Spirals
themselves. Why in the name of Thunder are we even considering waiting for
them to come to us like some timid terrorist guerillas? Is this our caern,
or isn't it? If we're not willing to gather together in our greatest
number and wade into the bawn, then they fucking deserve the caern more
than we do. The problem here is that everyone's trying to find a way to
save the caern /and/ their own asses, rather than puttint it all on the
line. We should gather every garou in this sept down to the newest cub and
mobilize with everything we have."

Owen Hollsinger just shares a breif smirk with his tribesmate.

"I thought," says Salem, voice rasping, "that you were _against_
chest-beating."

Kaz says, "Trouble got Totem speech, too. An' th' Rialto ain't looked
lived in for months anyways." She stops, abruptly, as Jarred lets go.
"Hey, dude, you ever heard of tactical advantages? Since when are you into
chest beatin'?"

"Yah, I guess we can be the grass and they can be the lawn mower and just
run us over too while we are at it, Jarred." Alicia says softly as she
fidgets with her hands for a bit, then lets them settle in her lap.
"Wading in blindly into their traps sucks ass."

Chaser merely growls, soft and low and threatening, hackles lifting as she
glares at the Shadow Lord. She lets the twolegs talk.

Yi looks at Little Bear after Alicia's comment, and just says nothing.

Sepdet nods to Chaser's question. ~Salmon are linked, yes.~ She doesn't
look entirely happy about the prospect of dividing her pack. As Jarred
bursts out, she strides over to him and folds her arms. ~You will
contribute, or leave. We are taking down their forces, according to the
alpha's orders.~

Jarred smiles at Kaz. "Since I got sick of hearing your lastest course in
ebonics war jargon. If this is war, then let it be an honest-to-god war.
Don't be afraid to fight it. I'd rather beat chests and die fighting for
Gaia than huddle in some burnt out theater waiting to snipe at the enemy
one by one."

Kaz glances at Sepdet. "Sepdet, does he know about Erebus?"

Leonard glances at Jarred thoughtfully.

Kaz glances at Sepdet. "Sepdet, does he know about Andrea's pack an' the
stuff they can do, 'terms of Erebus?"

Chaser backs up Sepdet's movement with her own, standing beside the
Strider and still growling quietly. You would rather attack frontal and
blindly, like an idiot, and let all their traps slaughter our warriors,
apparently.

Andrea raps on the door with her knuckles before she tests to see if it
swings open.

Owen Hollsinger stands up at that, knife still in his leg. "This is an
honest to goodness way, Jarred. And we intend to win it without question.
Attrition starts in the city. We then override them at our Caern when we
make sure they can no longer run."

John looks over and down to Owen, raising an eyebrow, before looking to
Jarred. "Then we would all die, and none would stand here to keep them
from expanding as they wished, Jarred. They outnumber us easily." Looking
to Owen again, about to continue, he adds, "Irony and guile escapes the
Shadow Lord. As seen from previous comment. Do you think if even a small
band of us or even /one/ are captured," Little Bear is glanced to for a
moment. "that there will not be enormous risk to more than just ourselves?
Please people, pause and use your fucking brains. Agatha was turned and
tainted. My previous Septmates. We are not invulnerable. Justice and
goodness aid our cause /none/. If even one of us is captured, the enemy
then has access to knowledge about our plans, our estimation of their
forces, the names of virtually all of us, and all our safe places. Nothing
would be sacred. /This/ is why no-one can afford to run off half-cocked
without planning on being able to survive, or die cleanly."

Leonard says quietly, "Seems to me they already have that."

Yi's grumbled comment involves something about the Vietnam War and the
tactics used there. She's still apparently, waiting for someone to let
Little Bear report what he saw too.

John grunts, "They think we are demoralized. Contributing helpfully to the
plans of one's /Elders/ without bitterness was the proof I thought we had,
that we are not. NOW. Owen. Splitting the parties... your thoughts?"

Jarred shakes his head at the wolf. "No fortress is impregnable." He looks
around him. "As for the rest of you, you have the stink of bureaucrats on
you." He stands. "By all means, when it comes time to actually fight, give
me a call. But until that time, don't include me in your worthless
pipe-dreams." He stalks toward the door.

Chaser turns her rather singed hindquarters on Jarred, and stalks away
stiffly. Let him talk all he wants. I see no mark of action on him. Her
tail twitches, andshe turns her attention to Owen.

Kaz watches after the man, shaking her head, still waiting for her answer.
"You're sort of abrupt, ain't you?"

Owen Hollsinger watched Jarred for only the barest of moments. "You walk
out that door, son, and you might as well leave the state. You won't be
welcomed back, for we will not put up with you snideness any more."

Sepdet's voice snaps out. ~Jarred. Stand.~ And at this point, Andrea is in
the door, and he is sandwiched between elders. ~You heard what I said. If
you cannot support your septmates and contribute, then go. Now. Attack the
caern alone. Die alone. Maybe you will take a few with you. Support your
sept, or die. You have no other choice.~

Andrea stands there when Jarred opens the door, though his expression
causes her brief smile of greeting to melt away as if never present.
Though small details in Andrea's face betray weariness, she cocks her head
alertly as she shifts her gaze up to Jarred's face.

Jarred stops at the door, visibly seething. He turns to glare at Sepdet.
"What the fuck are you talking about? Did I not just plainly say that I
would be delighted to fight with my sept-mates? What I have no desire to
do is sit here and debate urban guerilla tactics with weak-minded wolves
who would rather compromise the Mother's ideals and honor for their own
selfish concerns. I'm a fostern, a Galliard and an elder of my tribe. And
I'm telling you all that we should fight. Hard. Until the last of us is
dead, if necessary. But we should let another night go by with our caern
in the hands of those fiends."

Something is about to snap. And it seems to be Owen's good nature.
"Jarred," he growls between clenched teeth. "did you just have the
unfortunate lack of wisdom to call me weak-minded?"

Cameron eyes the furniture of the place, warily. Reasonably nice. Probably
expensive... He looks a little worried, and subtly makes his way away from
the angry-ragey Garou.

Alicia clears her throat lightly, and interjects. "I'm sure this is where
I say something all tree huggy like to calm you guys down, but ya'know..
no one tends to listen to me anyways."

Sepdet draws her knife. ~ENOUGH.~ She turns in place. ~We are planning to
serve the caern. The next person who speaks against a septmate in this
room has their vocal chords cut, and can contemplate pain and silence for
a while. I will have plans laid for taking the enemy down TONIGHT. There
is nothing else to discuss.~

Kaz grits her teeth. "Naw. That was me, Owen. You're pure as the driven
snow. Jarred, you gonna stomp out without information, or're you gonna
stick around to lissen to what Leonard an' th' Ouroborans saw?"

Chaser snarls, and for a moment her shape blurs--but then she returns to
Lupus. She holds her growling to a strained, low sound, fury barely held
in check. The wolf practically trembles with rage, and only self-control
and Sepdet's words keep her in check.

Andrea arches her eyebrows as she hears the words spoken behind the angry
Shadow Lord. Her own tone is even and calm, though there is not a trace of
comfort in it. "It doesn't require hugging trees to know if we fight among
ourselves than only the Enemy will win." Turning to Jarred, she adds, "My
apologies that I didn't arrive before you were finished. Will you join us?
I'm sure there are questions for me, and I have tenative timing for plans
that need to be hashed out before they are brought to Robert."

Salem, after his one remark, has lapsed into silence again; his mouth's
twisted as though he'd tasted something bad. And as the tension rises, the
Walker gets edgy, hands tightening into fists inside his pockets.

From afar, John gives a little nudge. "Keep your mind on the job."

Jarred wills himself to calm down, though he shoots a contemptuous glance
at both Get as he returns to his seat. His arms fold. "Bitter-Cup-Rhya. I
will listen. But do not expect me to toe the party line without voicing my
own opinions. I owe the sept and you nothing less. I would see us win,
just as much as any other in this room."

John clears his throat, and rumbles, "I believe the question was about
whether we should split parties, and if so, what sort of forces we'd have
at either ambush site."

John senses "Salem is fine; in fact, the drama seems to at least helping
keep him alert."

Kaz shakes her head. "John. Info needs to be spread. Before we go on about
ambushes. An' I wanna know Andrea's timin'."

Chaser growls softly. Yes. About Erebus.

Owen Hollsinger pulls the knife from his leg unceremoniously, a thin trail
of his glood soiling the floor of the room as he does so. He puts it away,
still somewhat seething, but backs up to where he was sitting.

Sepdet exhales strides back to her place by the hearth. ~Andrea.~ There's
an unspoken ~thank Gaia~ in her tone. ~Update: We were finalizing how to
set up ambushes at the Rialto and Junkyard on the no-moon, and we need to
set up whatever you want for the silver-forge rite. Then the full moon
caern attack. And finally, John's rightly worried about finding out how
they're getting info on us, and sounds like he has a few ideas.~ She
glances around. ~I think we've almost got the first two locked down. You
have the floor if you want it, al--~ she pauses, amends with a twinkle in
her eye in spite of current tension, ~friend.~

Chaser stays close to Sepdet's side, a silent presence to anything that
threatens either Andrea or the little Strider. Her posture is still taut,
her temper barely held in check.

"I would never ask you not to speak your mind," Andrea answers Jarred. "At
the most, I will only request that everyone attempt to hold their anger.
We are not its rightful target, but it rises high while we discuss those
that are." She turns toward Sepdet thoughtfully, then to John. "Do you
think this discussion itself is safe?"

Sepdet says, ~I've got one of my owls this side of the Gauntlet, and one
on the other. That's it.~

John hitches one shoulder in a trademark half-shrug. "Safe as it can be
for the moment." He eyes Salem for a second, then looks back. "I don't
really think internal treachery is our downfall, and unless their scouts
are /amazingly/ good, then I suspect their information is being acquired
by spirits or foul magic. We have ruled out several sources of
technological eavesdropping."

"Possible," Andrea agrees, turning now to give a nod of greeting to
Chaser. "Good to see you," she murmurs more quietly, before turning back
to the gathering. "Outside the city, I could see any spies that are not
themselves invisible. Between my sight and Sepdet's owls, this meeting
should be safe from that type of spying."

Salem cracks his knuckles idly, almost absent-mindedly.

Yi clears her throat from the shadow of the corner, having had some time
to mull over what to do. "The Junkyard is easiest to overcome but easiest
to set up ambush in. Lance made flamethrowers there. Find a way to set
them off. If they want to use glass, we can use glass too. Cover the glass
shards with some dirt to protect them from detection. Have the Dancers run
over strips of these in order to get to whatever it is they want. Dig
spike pits into the ground and cover them with plastic tarps and dirt. If
they use wires, we have wires too. Break a wire, get an axe thrown at your
head. Use the springs from the old car undersides. If it works correctly,
we would only need a couple packs defenders to make sure the traps go off.
Their gifts of making darkness might work on us, but some traps need not
have eyes for light." She pauses. "If nothing else, jump on them with a
big rusty railroad nail stuck through a board."

Jarred just shakes his head in disbelief.

The Walker Ahroun, meanwhile, inclines his head in a warily thoughtful
approval. "They're of the Wyrm, and don't deserve the honour of duels and
such."

Jarred laughs bitterly. "So that's our excuse for not fighting them, now?
They don't deserve an honorable fight?"

Kaz looks at Leonard. "You wanna tell him what's going on over there?"

Yi just tilts her head at Jarred, and shrugs. "I fight to win."

John eyes Jarred with a rueful twist to his mouth. "Who said we weren't
going to fight them?"

Alicia groans loudly. "Geezus, why don't we fucking challenge 'em to a
game of chess while we are at it Jarred? You can't always just be so cut
an dry in a war." She looks frustrated beyond belief. She may not have
much to input, but at least she knows when to shut up an listen to those
more seasoned.

Jarred says "Fine.. build your funhouse, Yi. But you all think it would be
stupid to attack them on their home turf because of the traps. Why the
hell would they do the same to us?"

Leonard arches an eyebrow, perhaps surprised he's being addressed. He
looks at Jarred. "They've trapped the whole bawn. Fire traps, flares shoot
up to tell of your location. Snipers hide next to water routes. In trees.
Bands of twisted ones patrol. All armed with silver." He touches his chest
gingerly. "In the umbra, there is a huge... thing, living blackness.
Shadow. It guards the line between bawn and caern." Leonard answers that,
as well. "Because they don't know we know they're coming."

Kaz shrugs. "'Cause they've already shown they /do/ that. Attack on home
turf. In different kinds of ways, sure, an' sneakily, but /they/ come to
/us/. It's a pattern."

Jarred says "Even after the building they attacked was blown to bits with
them inside it?"

Sepdet asks Jarred wryly, ~Perhaps you need to listen more closely? We
/know/ when they are coming. That's the point of this whole meeting.~

Leonard shakes his head. "The only ones left inside that building were
dead."

Yi shakes her head. She knows what she will be doing for the next days to
come. The Gnawer no-moon won't argue her role in this meeting anymore.

Kaz says, "Dunno. Have to find out. But according to Andrea, they said
they're gonna attack the Rialto and the 'Yard, at the dark moon. This was
after the Safehouse exploded, and so far as Andrea can tell, they didn't
know she was there."

John rumbles, "That was my home, and my call. The place was rendered
unlivable."

Jarred says "I listen just fine, Sepdet. What I am /not/ hearing is why a
party of black spiral dancers are going to patiently trot through every
trap we set up in the junk yard. THe minute they get wind of any trap,
they'll know the jig is up and they'll leave. Just like we would."

Leonard nods, slowly. "He's got a point."

Chaser flicks an ear, and then shifts up--but to Homid. She wears
bloodstained jeans and an even worse-looking t-shirt that was once white.
A very long time ago. She glances to John, briefly, and then paces over to
Andrea's side--her steps stiff, her bare feet visibly burned. "Did you
miss it, when I said we needed to keep them from leaving?" she asks
softly, turning to look at the Shadow Lord.

Sepdet looks to Yi, John, and Kaz. ~I suppose our city Garou are capable
of setting up traps appropriately? We are trying to box them in. They are
trying to keep us out.~

Salem's eyes are hidden, but the tilt of his head makes it fairly obvious
that he's looking directly at Jarred now. He still has that haggard, grim
look on his face, too.

Kaz wiggles a finger. "Well, there's always me. An' also, once you got 'em
in a trap, you snap it shut /behind/ 'em. Be kinda dumb if you just let
'em leave. But anyways, do you know about Andrea's Erebus stuff, too,
Jarred?"

Chaser explains, patiently, "That's the 'trap' part, see. Death /trap/."
Then she glances over to Andrea, setting herself behind the woman's
shoulder.

With an air of impatience, John rumbles, "And if we were allowed to
continue uninterrupted, Shadow Lord, you would find that your questions
have already been thought of and are trying to be answered. The question
that faces us is the composition of our forces at either site, and how we
propose to take greatest advantage of the moment by killing the most. This
is not about defending, it is about /killing/."

John shakes his head slowly in frustration. "Excuse me a moment, if you
would?" he asks, of the Adren. "I need some air and to make a phone call."

Andrea comments, almost absently, "As an aside, a few trapped locations
will discourage them from blindly attacking our other strongholds. Susan
works even now to create defenses for the island, just to slow invaders.
Even if you do not kill as many as you could, it will not be for naught."

Andrea nods at John. "I was hoping to hear your opinions on the rest," she
adds. "Return if you can."

Jarred leans back in his chair. "Fine. I won't say another word. Far be it
from me to point out flaw in the /committee's/ plan."

Chaser runs a hand through her hair, scrubbing at the slightly damp, spiky
mass of it. She takes a careful breath, and lets it out; the pale hands
clench and unclench at her sides.

Kaz finally asks Andrea, with a slightly-suffering air, "Could you explain
your Erebus stuff to Jarred? It'll illuminate all kindsa your timin'
stuff, at the same time."

Andrea glances toward the Shadow Lord, then toward Kaz. "Certainly. I hope
everyone pardons me if I'm long-winded. It's a lot of information."

Andrea clears her throat and says, "Well. We will see how it stands." She
gives Owen an odd smile as she adds, "I am no ahroun, after all." Sobering
once more, she says, "I'm not sure if all of you know, but my pack was
able to get some information about the enemy a few nights past. One of the
major pieces of information was the names of about five Black Spiral
Dancers, including their warleader and their ritemaster. There is a ritual
that those of my pack know, to send the deserving to Erebus." Her voice is
slow and expressionless. "It is something all born of the Silver River
learn though some, like Susan, would not have the ritual knowledge to
perform it alone. It may not succeed, but if it does, it will take them to
Erebus the first time they cross the gauntlet." Her eyebrows arch. "Of
course, optimally we would like them to all cross as close together as
possible, as to throw the most confusion into their ranks and to limit the
chance they may have some way to undo it. Thus, my plan. It will take a
few more days to prepare all the ritual components, and that will put us
in the dark of the moon." She takes a breath to pause, then goes on. "The
ritual could be done then, though the half moon of judgement is more
appropriate. Also, if we do it when the moon reaches half, we could lead
an umbral assault on the caern on the completion of the ritual. Those not
in the Umbra, at least, would cross. If any are already there, they may
not realize that someone gone missing was because of the ritual and--if
they survive the assault--they may cross and be banished at a later time."

Salem, as Andrea speaks, turns his attention away from the Shadow Lord and
to the Gaian.

Sepdet chews her lip. ~Will your Rite draw those named there? Or do we
need to lure them?~

Andrea says "This would give the next week for the rallying of spirits to
fight with us, rather than attacking without coordination and dying, like
they're doing now. Some could make talens. Some might even try to learn
gifts. Any blessed to be Stag's children that do not already know it, I
would advise to learn the gift to resist poisons...and balefire."

Yi shifts her gaze from Andrea to Sepdet to nod a moment, then back to
Andrea.

Andrea turns to Sepdet. "It's possible it would draw them, and I would
want at least part of the assault force with me until it completes. But I
am proposing attacking the caern itself from the umbral side.

Leonard nods to that idea.

Chaser nods minutely. "The main problem there is this darkness thing," she
murmurs. "And how do we know, once you do this, that these guys are
/gonna/ cross over anytime soon? Call we call'em from one side of the
Gauntlet to the other?"

Chaser's voice is a hoarse rasp.

Owen Hollsinger lends Andrea a crooked grin. He keeps quiet for the
meantime.

Sepdet puts in, ~Jarred asked about summoning the darkness bane off where
we could trap it.~ She looks towards Andrea. ~Tall order, if you could get
its name. Is there a chance?~

Andrea frowns thoughtfully, "I don't think the gift that Kaz has calls
across the gauntlet, but I'm not certain." A wry smile touches her mouth.
"I'm more depending on the hope that news of a large strike force of Gaian
Garou and spirits will draw almost all their defenders into the umbra, and
that their strongest will be among them." Turning to Chaser, she adds,
"Unfortunately, I haven't seen the darkness spirit myself yet, so I
haven't been able to wrest its name from it. I only know it dissolves
spirits, and not what its attacks do to Garou. It will be one of the first
things we should concentrate on taking out." Spreading her hands, she
says, "Our biggest blessing in that is that very few spirits can attack
near as quickly as any of us. If we mob it quickly, some may die, but we
will limit its damage, Uktena may protect us from its attack, so my pack
will likely be among those to do that." She turns to the group again. "If
this is approved by sept and alpha, make no mistake. It's not merely a
diversion. It will be a large bite in a desperate war."

Alicia clears her throat lightly. "Well... between Sepdet, Andrea and
Elan.. I'm sure something can be cooked up regarding that huge dark bane,
right?"

Kaz chews her lip. "'S'far as I know, it don't lure across the Gauntlet,
no, but I ain't experimented with it much. So're we certain they ain't
gonna do their ritual at the dark moon?"

Owen Hollsinger chimes in. "Andrea, did you not mention that wish to
perform some Rite? Do you plan to attack before or during it?"

Andrea purses her lips at Sepdet. "I don't have a good feel for whether
its power makes that unlikely," she admits. "But to trap it, we would have
to beat it down--at least if we were trapping with conventional means. And
I would not fight a spirit of darkness in anything less than half moon, if
I had any choice at all."

Andrea turns to Owen first. "After. Right after. Once the ritual's
complete, if it succeeded, any Garou named will be pulled into Erebus when
they reach across the Gauntlet to the Umbra."

Chaser nods curtly. "And then we attack, and give 'em a reason to cross."
She lowers her eyes in thought.

Sepdet nods. ~Which is why attack the caern from the umbra. Got it.~ She
thoughtfully, ~You and I can command spirits to stop. I wonder if Elan
can. That may buy our attack a moment's time. Aubrey, have your pack start
prepping the spirits for this attack, telling them we'll need them to
fight with us, and looking for likely candidates for a talen. Jamethon and
I will be by soon to make talens, and anyone else who can bind.~

Andrea turns next to Kaz. "They should do it then, from what I know. But
their new ritemaster is inexperienced. The ones we heard said they planned
to do it on the full moon."

Kaz frowns, just slightly. "Oh. Right. You said that last night. Sorry."

Owen Hollsinger shakes his head. "No. The rite they, the Dancers, intend
on doing."

Kaz nods at Owen. "The full."

Andrea cautions, "This only came to me this afternoon, when I began to
purify some of the ritual items. I haven't gotten to talk to Robert yet,
so don't make definite plans yet. But if the sept supports it, I'll take
it to him." She turns to Owen. "Their ritual will be after what I'm
proposing. I would propose we attack during that ritual as well, if what
we do the halfmoon before doesn't stop it. They will be weaker and
distracted during a ritual."

Chaser nods curtly. "Wyrm fuckin' did it to us, when we awakened the Wheel
in the first place," she mutters.

Sepdet confirms, ~Silver forge and attack at halfmoon, and if we don't
take them out, attack again at full.~

Owen Hollsinger just grunts in reply, satisfied.

Jarred rubs his temples.

Chaser slants her green eyes toward Andrea. "I'd still like to keep
scouting. Find out what we can about what they've got. Didn't get all that
much from your message, and last night I didn't make it all the way in.
Still was about five minutes out when all hell broke loose."

Yi counts off on her fingers then, aloud, reminding herself. "Ambush
Junkyard and Rialto on the newmoon. Silver River rite on the half moon.
Full out attack on the full moon." She glances up, wondering if she's
missing something.

Andrea nods. "It's getting dangerous for it," she adds, "But umbral
information could be very useful as well. For all we know they've somehow
set traps there as well, or wards. Our talens expired before we could go
into the Umbra." She frowns, adding, "Patrick could fly in without being
seen, but I really wish I could. Being able to take better measure of
their spiritual defenses could save lives."

Chaser nods. "I'd like t'see if those scrags are a full ring, and find out
how many."

Andrea corrects Yi slightly, "The Rite of the Silver Forge would have a
full-out attack as well, but umbral. Their rite would likely be in the
realm, so the fight on the full moon may be realmside."

Owen Hollsinger takes a secong to rub his eyes. "Are we certain that all
we're facing is Dancers and their pet spirits and fomori?"

John comes back in and looks over to Salem. He crosses to his tribemate,
and murmurs a request for an update.

Andrea shakes her head, glancing to Sepdet. She adds, "I plan to send
someone to Broken Stones, to get the full story from Cyllan. Someone their
sept will tolerate long enough for her to tell what she remembers of Saul
ben Issac."

Leonard arches an eyebrow. "Who's Saul ben Issac?"

Andrea gestures to Sepdet to answer Leonard.

Salem tilts his head toward the Walker elder and, speaking in low tones,
fills him in.

Owen Hollsinger is about to ask that same question, but Leonard beats him
to it.

Chaser snorts. "And glass banes. And technology--which hopefully the
Walkers can help us with--and scrags. And this fucking Wyrm totem." She
looks over to Andrea, and adds, "I couldn't even fuckin' /remember/ what
happened when we lost Cougar, and Magpie, and Buffalo."

Sepdet takes a breath. ~Saul ben Isaac was a-- not quite a mage, something
worse--who besieged the Wheel Renewed several years ago with demons. He
raped the caern of its power. A coalition of Garou and city mages hunted
him to his tower in a near realm and destroyed him, but not all of his
minions. As a result of his attack, we eventually had to remake the caern,
and in the process, Buffalo, Magpie, and Cougar were lost. B Visions have
come to many echoing these events.~

Leonard narrows his eyes at this, thoughtfully.

Jarred looks at his watch and gets up. "Unfortunately, I've got business
to attend to in the city. Anyone mind if I leave, now that everything's
all planned?" I smiles disarmingly. "Excellent.. Didn't think so." He
makes his way to the door.

Salem cuts off his murmuring to John to turn a quick look toward Sepdet.

John's attention snaps to the Strider, the ice-blue eyes expressionless
and intense. "Cougar," he mutters.

Yi echoes the word "Magpie" at the mention of John's Cougar.

Owen Hollsinger scratches at his ching. "This explains a certain dream."

Salem sighs, the sound almost resigned, and adds, "Buffalo."

With a taut smile, Chaser opens the door for Jarred.

Leonard arches an eyebrow at Salem.

Sepdet doesn't respond to Jarred, still focussed on the matter at hand.
She looks towards John. ~Have you seen her?~ She swings towards Owen with
a sad smile. ~Well, that piece falls into place then. I was waiting for
the third.~

Andrea inclines her head to Jarred. "Any suggestions for more we can do,"
she says. "I know I haven't thought of everything."

John answers Sepdet with a curt nod. "Dream," he mutters.

Jarred shakes his head politely. "Nope. Looks like everything'll be just
fine, Alpha. Glad I can put all that doubt and anxiety to rest now." he
glances over to Chaser. "Thanks for getting that for me. It's a woman's
place, you know." He winks and strides through the door and out into the
night."

Salem, if he catches Leonard's look, doesn't respond to it. Still, there's
an increased tightening of his posture.

Owen Hollsinger can't help it. Even as Jarred leaves, he shifts upward to
glabro, producing a big goddamn-almighty axe that even his considerable
frame would require both hands to weild, the head of which falls to rest
on the floor with an audible thud while he rests his hands on the butt-end
of the shaft. ~I will not hear another insult spat out in this place,~ he
warns.

Andrea unbends enough to pinch the bridge of her nose. Once the Shadow
Lord ducks out of sight, she requests sincerely, "Please leave him his
balls until after we win, Chaser.~

Chaser bares her teeth, silently, and for a moment her hands clench and
tremble at her sides. The rage swells visibly, and it clearly takes an
effort of self-control not to shift and attack the departing Shadow Lord.

Yi slips down into a cross-legged sit, glancing around. "Is it just a
coincidence that the three auspices who have the spirit dreams also fall
on the same moons we plan our actions? The no moons have received Magpie,
and our ambushes will go on the new moon. The half moons have Buffalo, and
the planned judgement rite and attack is on the half moon. The full moons
have Cougar, and the final planned attack is upon the full moon as well."
Then, after blurting out this, she shuts her mouth a bit embarrassedly.

Sepdet blinks away from the spat by the door and stares down at her
packmate. ~Now why didn't I see that?~ She smiles wanly. ~I'll call it a
good sign and leave it at that.~

Leonard shakes his head. "There are no such things." He gives Yi a
thoughtful look, nodding to Sepdet.

Andrea murmurs at Yi, "Curious." Louder, she adds, "It may be significant,
but it's also the moons closest to those totems. Magpie is a totem of
cunning, Buffalo of respect, and Cougar of war."

Alicia clears her throat lightly and continues to listen, finding Jarred's
outburst completely immature. Under her breath, one can possibly hear..
"How the hell did he even become a cliath?" Shaking her head, she lets out
a breath and puzzles herself over the mystries of these visions.

Chaser nods. "Figured that was why I had the Magpie dream... 'cause she's
a no-moon kinda totem." She glances over to Yi. You too, yeah?

Andrea looks around. "If there are no other questions, I will take this
plan to Robert tomorrow, and take my leave of you tonight."

Alicia rises up to her feet and stretches out, glancing over to Andrea,
offering a slight smile.

Chaser nods. "You goin' to the island?" she asks hoarsely.

Yi shrugs back at Chaser, eyes lowering in submission. She glances back up
and just watches the proceedings further. Her eyes slide over to Little
Bear.

Andrea nods in answer to Chaser.

Sepdet looks up at Andrea. ~I think we're set.~ She actually breaks into a
smile. ~We /are/ set. Tell him. We're ready when he gives the word, and we
can bring the fight to their door and be standing in the caern itself
within the moon.~

Chaser runs a hand through her hair, rubbing at the chopped-short back.
"I'll go with ya, if it's all right," she murmurs.

Yi rises up to her feet then, finally moving out of the shadows to
approach Leonard and look him over. The ragabash pokes him once in the
shoulder.

Leonard blinks, looking up at Yi in surprise.

Andrea nods to Chaser again, smiling more warmly, "Perhaps you can help
Susan, if you're inclined. I'm afraid what I don't know about traps could
fill the lake." She turns back to Sepdet. "May the Mother see it so. Walk
safely." She sweeps the remaining Garou with her eyes. "All of you."

Chaser glances to Sepdet, offering a glance. Something in the hard eyes
softens a little, and then she shifts down to the wolf-shape to follow at
Andrea's heels.

Yi tilts her head a little more wolfishly, and then smirks. Between her
and her packmate, there is light of admiration for the foolish but
courageous move he pulled, and definite respect for his escaping the jaws
of death. "Don't ever do something like that without me again, na?"

Andrea murmurs, as she goes, "I'd like to know what you and Leonard did
learn, actually. I missed the beginning."

Chaser flicks an ear and slips out, walking at Andrea's side.

Sepdet sends Chaser off with a smile as well that only flickers slightly
as Yi brings up the actions of an exasperating packmate.

Owen Hollsinger rubs his forhead, keeping the axe balanced with his
offhand. "We still never laid down specifics for these ambushes."

Leonard nods solemnly, but his eyes are dancing. Must be a fever; the
staid Wendigo would never get a rush out of such a foodhardy, desperate
act. "Next time, we'll count coup on the heart of darkness together."

John takes a breath and clears his throat. "You know how to reach us," he
says to the Strider, giving a curt nod and then turning to leave.

Sepdet turns back and says in a soft voice, ~No, you will not. Not until
this war is over. Look at me closely, Little Bear.~

Leonard glances at Sepdet, arching an eyebrow.

Yi glances over to Sepdet from her spot beside Little Bear, her smirk
fading.

Sepdet says, ~In less than a week, you have endangered the lives of
septmates, demoralized packmates, disobeyed orders and railed at elders,
in flagrant disregard for the Litany. Your frenzying on a septmate
derailed an emergency discussion to establish a safe haven for cubs and a
new base of city operations. You distracted and humiliated your alpha in
last night's Council of War, where we had all elders present and could
have had these plans finished and ratified in Robert-rhya's presence. The
meeting was ended before plans were finalized because some people did not
approve of my leaving you to live or die for your own folly, and rushed
off to save you--if they hadn't been stopped, you might have several
deaths on your conscience.~

Yi blinks a couple of times, but swallows hard and briefly looks up at
Sepdet's eyes. "But he came back. No one is dead. Plans are made, and we
know more about the Dancers at the caern and their defenses than we would
have if we'd waited."

Sepdet holds up a hand. ~That's why I'm not taking his head off. Let me
finish, Yi.~ The anger of last night is mostly gone now.

Salem looks over toward John. "I'll find my own way back," he says quietly.

Alicia makes her way over to Salem and John and leans over, lightly
whispering to the two as she keeps an eye on the Strider.

John's eyes narrow, but whatever he was about to say is cut short by
Alicia's arrival. A slight frown comes to the man's scarred face as he
looks down at her.

Yi bites down on her tongue, letting the Strider adren finish.

Owen leans his axe a little closer to Sepdet, hinting that should she want
it...

In a whisper to John and Salem, Alicia says, "Just letting you know that
I'm taking off and keeping my cell free. Good night.

Sepdet holds his eyes earnestly. ~We are a sept. We live or die together.
We /work together/ as a sept. That means obeying elders, supporting your
septmates--even those you do not like--and taking NO ACTION save as a
member of this sept, for the good of your sept. This is not a time for
personal glory. /Everything/ is for Gaia, not yourself. Or, if you prefer
to act on your own with no regard for your fellows, then die alone. Go
into the caern on a suicide mission and get yourself killed, and perhaps
take one or two of them with you. It is an utter miracle Chaser is not
dead because of what you did. I won't let you take anyone else on a
harebrained mission like that. Do you understand?~

Yi might just be sticking her neck out, but her eyes narrow a bit. "I was
with Chaser and Leonard. Chaser wanted to scout. If she is a fostern, then
she made that choice on her own decision. She didn't tell you or
Robert-rhya or Andrea-rhya either, did she? Why blame her actions on
Leonard?"

Salem nods to Alicia in acknowledgement of her whisper. Another twitch of
an almost-smile flickers briefly across his face.

Alicia returns that twitch with a warm one of hers, then saunters outside,
shoving her hands into her pockets.

John nods. "Later," he says quietly. Then he glances over to Salem,
frowning. He gestures the Walker outside, then.

Salem's mouth thins, but -- dutifully -- he follows his alpha outside.

Sepdet shakes her head. ~Chaser had talked with Robert-rhya about
scouting.~ She looks down at Yi. ~So that was authorized. I have no
quibbles with scouting and bringing back information--wonderful, fabulous.
But counting coup is NOT what we're here for, or any other tribal or
personal game. It's the sept. The sept and caern. That's all that matters,
Yi. And /keeping alive/ until the battles we fight together, because as
you just heard, we're going to need everyone we can get to pull this off.~

Leonard shakes his head. "I didn't go in there to count coup. It just
happened that running in was the only way I could think of of finding
anything out without getting found out myself. I only had so much time
before my gift failed. And I didn't count coup; I didn't touch anything.
Just got real close." He sounds wistful at that. "Anyway, no, I won't be
leading anyone into certain death. You have my word."

Yi takes in a deep breath, and lowers her eyes away from the adren. "Fine.
If she talked to Robert-rhya before, ok. But you still can't blame Leonard
for the actions of others. They may have been acting for him, but it was
their decision to do so. You can only blame Leonard for what -he- did. And
that was running himself through a gauntlet of danger for the sake of the
sept, the caern, and Gaia, and coming out of it alive enough to tell us
all what he saw."

Sepdet inclines her head to Yi. ~Which a pack had already done the night
before, only without putting all the enemy on alert. But you're right.
Chaser was responsible for herself. I wouldn't be so angry if I hadn't
been so worried about /both/ of them.~ She turns back to Leonard. ~Work as
a team. A pack. A sept. The lone Wendigo hero is still a /dead/ Wendigo
hero in this game, and unfortunately for you--Wyrmcomers though most of us
are-- it's very hard for us to let you die even for the sake of heroics.
So that goes for yourself too. Bend that Wendigo pride enough to go in
with a team, or not. We'll have plenty of chances to die gloriously for
Gaia in the coming month.~

Owen mutters under his breath. "Don't add 'Wyrm' to my name."

Leonard just looks at Sepdet, nodding.

Yi sticks her hands in her jacket pockets, and just nods this time. The
Gnawer brushes Leonard gently, looking back up to Sepdet. "We're a pack.
We might fight our different ways, but we'll fight together all the same."
She looks back down to her galliard packmate and half-smiles. "And right
now, I'll go fight by making some traps for the Junkyard."

Sepdet exhales and sets one hand on each of their shoulders, giving both a
tight squeeze.

Leonard reaches out and squeezes Yi's arm. "Good luck." He glances up at
Sepdet, a flicker of apology in his eyes. "I didn't do it for glory. I
just wanted to know. I'm sorry I made you look bad."

Sepdet says wryly, ~Owen, I'm very sorry, but if you want to take his head
off, please wait until after the full moon. Same for everyone else who was
pissed.~

Yi checks over the galliard a few more times to see just where he is
hurting, then looks up and over at the lone Get hanging around the Salmon
pack.

Owen grumbles. ~After tonight I won't be allowed to take that course of
action.~

Yi finishes her inspection of Leonard, and after poking him in various
spots gently brushes the galliard's shoulder again before turning to head
for the door. "Better be going back now. Have a ways to go."

Leonard oof, oof, GRUNTS, eyes widening, leaning over when she hits a
certain spot. "I know this sounds...stupid, coming from me, but; be
careful, eh?"

Salem, after his chat with John, apparantly decided to accompany him back
to the city after all. Or was persuaded. Either way, he doesn't return.


[Later, in the city...]


Whispering Pines - Roger's Apt(#2598RAJL)

This apartment gives a look of high expense, not in the building itself,
but it's contents. The walls and ceiling are painted pure black, and the
carpet matches the darkness, save for some off color fuzz, being that it's
a pretty new carpet. Across from the door in the living area is a large
black entertainment center consisting of a not suprisingly black 42" TV, a
large fully digital stereo system with CD and tape players, AM/FM stereo,
a setting for the TV, and a useless setting called 'phono'. There are
various gaming systems tucked into the entertainment center as well,
baring names like Dreamcast, Playstation and Playstation 2, various
systems with the word 'Nintendo' upon them... 3D0, NeoGeo, and finally
something called a 'colecovision'. This system is complemented nicely by a
high quality Bose surround sound speaker system. Two black leather couches
are on the left and right of the living area, angled at the entertainment
center. A large chest rests on the ground between the couches and the
entertainment center, working as a foot rest. The only sources of light
are the LEDs on the stereo, the TV, and a small blacklight bulb in the fan
in the center of the apartment. A door to the right of the apartment leads
to Roger's bedroom(+view) and the small kitchen is visable on the right
side of the apartment, almost a part of the living room. The kitchen is
lit up by a hallogen lamp, resting next to the front door, pointed towards
it.


Salem knocks -- once, twice.

Dizzy opens the can, listening to Jeremy, nodding along with what he's
saying. "I'm hanging out here until everyone gets back together again,"
she adds. "Now that the Roach Motel is gone and all. She turns her head to
the door. "Another visitor?"

Pain flickers across Rina's expression, the delicate face twisting. She
doesn't step in too far, spreading both hands palm-out in token of
harmlessness. Her dark eyes still watch the new cub, oddly soft against
the lines of her face. "Hey... easy. Won't hurtcha, aright?" A glance to
the door, and she returns her attention to Jacob, stepping over to offer
him a hand. "I'm Rina. I'm not... one of them."

Jacob notices, as if for the first time, the computers and networking and
... ohmygod, GEEKINESS. He looks to Jeremy. "Are you set up with wireless
networking?" He looks at Rina and swallows. "I evidently am. And I don't
know what the hell it means." He pauses. "I'm Jacob. Are you ... like
Jeremy, then? Not a werewolf but still part of ... this whole thing?"

Jeremy glances over to the screen, then moves over to the door, unbolting
and unlocking, allowing Salem in. In answer to Jacob, he murmurs. "Nuh uh,
I'm set up on a gigabit NIC network, using wireless is too slow and I
don't like the inconsistancy, besides, I have better hardware firewalls
set up on this, as well as software port protection." Gothy computer nerd,
huzzah. "Hi.. Salem."

Rina nods in answer to Jacob. "Yeah. Kinfolk. Nice to meetcha."

"Oh god," Dizzy says, shaking her head, "He's Jeremy's twin." She turns to
the geeky cub. "I'm Dizzy by the way, Ragabash Glass Walker.
Spins-in-Circles. If that doesn't mean anything yet, it will soon."

Salem steps in to the apartment -- black coat, black jeans, black hat,
black boots, dark glasses. The t-shirt's gray, at least. "Jeremy.
Evening." Stepping into the apartment, he removes the fedora, but the
sunglasses stay put.

Jacob nods at Jeremy. "Mind if I jack into your network and check my
email? Four days on the street hasn't exactly given me a chance." He looks
back at Rina. "Likewise." His eyes get spooked again as someone new shows
up. Then he looks at the other girl. "Jacob. And that's all I can tell
you. Don't know anything else. What did all that mean that you said?"

Rina turns, light coming into her eyes, a worried half-smile lighting her
face. "Salem... hey. How is he?"

Dizzy gives a small wave to Salem. "Hi!" She turns back to Jacob,
"Ragabash means I was born under a new moon, and that I'll spill soda on
you on purpose. Glass Walker is the tribe we belong to and
Spins-in-Circles is the name used when in wolf-form."

"Yes, I do mind." Jeremy says with a very serious, straight face.
"Everything on there is in synch. Roger wouldn't let me touch it. If I
did, I'd be lucky to be conscious in the morning."

"Fine," Salem answers Rina, ignoring the others for the moment; his voice
has a bit of a rasp that it doesn't normally have, and he looks tired.
"Meeting went well. Apart from the idiot Lord."

Jacob smiles slightly and nods at Jeremy. "Understood."

Rina's eyes tighten a fraction. "The asshole who hates me? Jarhead?"

Salem's mouth thins, twisting into a little grimace. "The same. Either
stupid, or a turncoat. Full frontal attack, he wants. Fortunately, no one
listened." His head turns, attention focussing on the face he doesn't
recognize.

Dizzy takes a sip of her soda. "What was the meeting about, Salem?"

It is currently 23:43 Pacific Time on Tue Jun 4 2002.

Rina lets out a breath, and ducks her head slightly. She touches a hand to
Salem's, fleeting, and then she heads for the kitchen. Her eyes stray
often to the computers.

Salem is distracted by the touch, shaded gaze turning to follow Rina to
the kitchen, briefly. Then he makes for a place to sit, answering Dizzy as
he does so. "Information. Plans." He peers at her; the Ragabash cub is
reflected, distorted and small, in the lenses. "By the way. Welcome back.
You've heard?"

Dizzy nods, solemly, looking down. "Yeah, I heard. About the Caern and
Roger, that is. I had just come to town when the building exploded."

Rina glances over her shoulder to Dizzy, as she pours a glass of whisky.
That is, if Roger's high-quality stash is still in its proper place. "Good
t'have ya back, Diz," she murmurs.

Having settled himself at the computers, Jeremy is using simply one
keyboard between each of the five boxes set up under the monitors,
switching between one screen to the next as he types away. "Everything is
still here." He says quietly, murmuring. "Franky has a DVD that has some
important stuff on it regarding the tribe. Also.. John called me and wants
to meet up and talk I guess. Roger left me everything and well.. I don't
think I have need for C-4 or a crate of silver ammo."

Salem sinks, rather heavily, into one of the couches. "Yes. Well. Timing."
Whether he means that Dizzy's timing is good or bad is unclear; he removes
the dark glasses long enough to rub at his eyes. The blind eye's white as
usual, but the good one's still rather bloodshot, and dark smudges linger
under both. "Who's that?" He gestures, vaguely, toward Jacob, with the
sunglasses.

Rina looks over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Jesus fuck," she says,
"we have C4? And more silver?" She sounds as excited as a kid at
Christmas.

Jacob just turns in on himself even more. "I'm Jacob," he says quietly.

Dizzy raises her eyebrows at Rina, a look of disbelief on her face. That
is one strange kingirl. She shakes her head and takes another sip of her
soda and sits on an arm of the couch. "JJacob, I guess," she answers
Salem.

"Um... We have.. errm... yah... there is about four bars of pure silver in
that trunk, along with the ammo, black talons and silver. Home made
napalm, shrapnel." Jeremy pauses in thought as he counts off on his
fingers. "Maps to just about every major buliding in the city, along with
full sewer mappage. Its actually quite a cool toy box."

Rina lets out a breath, smile lighting her face. "Oh, man." She tosses
back her shot in one long draught, and then paces swiftly over to plant a
loud, firm kiss on Jeremy's cheek. "You just /made/ my /fuckin'/ day!"

Jeremy blushes at that, muttering. "I can teach you how to put an assault
rifle together and lock and load within fifteen seconds if you really want
to be impressed." He barely squeaks out in a whisper.

"Jacob. Hmnh." Salem fixes the timid boy with a sunken stare. "Cub? Kin?
Archangel of Gaia?" Sleep deprivation does strange things to the
ex-Ronin's sense of humor, apparantly. He doesn't crack the slightest
smile, though, and his expression's more dour than amiable.

Rina leans in close to his ear, and whispers, "We gotta go shoot sometime,
then." She draws back and says, over her shoulder, "Cub."

Jacob shrugs. "According to all of them," and he waves a hand around, "I'm
a cub. 'Least that's what Francisco said, too. Me, I've got no friggin'
clue what the hell that means."

"Jeremy mentioned that he'd had his first change, right?" Dizzy asks.

"His fetch." Jeremy corrects himself softly as he glances over to Rina,
cheeks still red, lightly clearing his throat. Little gothic boy is now
looking like a lobster.

Salem sits back against the couch cushions, replacing the sunglasses as he
does so. "You will," he tells Jacob.

Jacob shrugs. "If it's part of me, I guess I'll have to. I just hope that
my folks don't find out. God, that'd be a bad thing. They're having a hard
enough time with--" He cuts off, blushes and looks at his hands. "With
other stuff." He looks at Jeremy. "Do you mind if I crash here again
tonite? If not, I can go wander."

Rina flashes Jeremy a crooked, reassuring smile, and paces over to the
couch. She drops to sit crosslegged on the other side of the coffee table.
On the floor, even. "It's no problem," she says, giving Jeremy a look.

Dizzy 's eyes get wide, "Um, no. No wandering. The streets are _way_ too
dangerous, expecially now." She looks around the room and then hangs her
head. "My god, I sound like the elders when I wanted to go out."

"Not at all.. safest place probably is here. In the mini fortress of
doom." Jer' says in a teasing, forboding voice. "But seriously, there is
enough here to protect us for at least..." He pauses. "Against spirals..
five minutes."

Salem tilts his head back. "If they don't know, they shouldn't learn," he
says to Jacob, apparantly oblivious to the new cub's fit of discomfiture.

Rina slants an amused glance to the Kinfolk. "Hey, want me t'stay? That'd
make it at least six."

Jacob smiles and throws a painfully grateful look at Jeremy. "Thanks. I
can't tell you how much I appreciate this." He yawns mightily. "Oh, excuse
me. I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

Jeremy glances over to Rina and blushes again, clearing his throat.
"I..rrrm..." He shifts involuntarily, cutting a glance to Dizzy. Woo Boy.

Dizzy catches the glance from Jeremy, "It's okay, Rina. This place has
tons of lock and I'm around for at least a speed bump to whoever tries to
break in."

Rina rolls her eyes heavenward. "Jesus. I din't mean it like /that/. I'll
go to the studio..." She glances over her shoulder to Salem. "Long as
somebody'll take me there."

Salem isn't so out of it that he doesn't catch the hint. He grunts, and
sits up. "Heading back now?"

Jeremy coughs again and rolls his shoulders, ducking his head, silently.

Rina shakes her head minutely. "Nah. I just wanna make sure you get some
*sleep*." She half-smiles over to the man. "Whenever."

Jacob blinks rapidly to keep himself awake, and starts looking more owly.

Salem's mouth does that little twist again, though this time with a hint
of a cynical, tired smile. Then he laces his fingers together and
stretches his arms out in front of him, joints popping.

Rina glances over to Jacob, and she gets up quickly. "Aright, kid. You
need to sleep." Both hands dust off her knees, and she gives Diz a quick
smile. "You got my number still?"

Jacob smiles tiredly at Rina. "Yeah. I do."

Dizzy gets off of the couch arm and heads back over to the kitchen. "See
ya later, then, guys."

Jacob curls up and watches everyone from under the covers.

Salem finishes stretching, then pushes himself to his feet; the hat's
replaced on his head, brim tugged downwards.

Jacob mutters something that sounds vaguely like "g'night".

Rina glances to the boy, her eyes softening a touch. Then she makes her
way out, along with Salem.

Salem falls into step with Rina, heeling like a bipedal doberman. A
particularly weary bipedal doberman.


[Scene change.]


Studio(#2560RFJ)

The studio is airy, elegantly modern and full of light: a large,
high-ceilinged square room with almost an entire wall of windows. All the
space is crowded with canvases in storage and others in progress, rolled
works propped up in one corner, easels here and there with new canvas or
finished work. Sometimes the place has two or three pieces in various
stages of development--though usually, one large work dominates the space
just before the windows, behind the green velvet-upholstered couch (which
is quirky and curving, a work of modern art on its own). There's a
colorful Kilim rug under the coffee table--and that table is a sculpture
of recycled blue and green circuit-board and shiny aluminum. Another big
canvas--this one a darkened cityscape--hangs from the ceiling on chains
rigged to runners, similar to those for rack lighting. The work seems to
block off one area for sleeping, since a large queen-sized futon can be
seen behind it. The walls around the bed are painted with swirling color,
undersea tones predominant; they gradually grow quieter as the organic
patterns grow out into the rest of the room, and angles replace curves,
until the mural morphs into a mix of oceanscape and circuitry.

A small, compact bar and kitchenette, a stereo unit, and a plain-lined,
sparely-appointed bathroom complete the artist's workspace.


Rina takes him back to the studio, murmuring an apology for the smell of
paint as they walk in. It's chilly, the windows always left open. "You can
sleep on the couch..." She shrugs off her jacket, revealing the two
shoulder rigs beneath, both carrying .45s; the leather jacket gets tossed,
carelessly, onto a chair.

Salem nods, shrugging out of the black trench and, for the moment, draping
it over the back of the couch; he drops the hat on top of it. He's been
quiet on the way over, and now he remarks, off-handedly, "I had that
duster for six years, you know. Six. Fucking. Years." There's no real
strength of ire behind the words, just weariness.

Rina looks over at him, stopping in her tracks. There's a moment of
stunned silence, and then she says, "Don't tell me y'losin' sleep over
your fuckin' /coat/," she says, almost teasingly. There's a glint of humor
in her eyes, but worry is there as well, and softness.

Salem actually laughs at that. It's short, no more than a few stuttered,
shaky-sounding exhalations escaping before he regains composure and cuts
it off. It's disturbing, in a way. Salem _never_ laughs. A wry chuckle,
certainly, but an actual _laugh_?

He lets himself drop down onto the couch, taking off the glasses and
passing a hand across his face, his eyes.

There's a thud, as the guns drop onto the leather. Then she flops onto the
couch beside him, half-turned to face him. "Do it again," she murmurs.
"Know what hell is for the mafia?"

Salem sits leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. In one hand
dangles the sunglasses; the other remains over his eyes. After a moment,
he takes the bait. "What?"

Rina tips her head and puts on her best Chicago accent. "Paddy O'Malley's.
An Irish bar where it's Saint Patrick's Day, every fuckin' day."

Salem takes his hand away from eyes and turns to squint at Rina with
bloodshot eyes. He doesn't get it. Maybe it's the fatigue poisons.

Rina shakes her head, and giggles helplessly. "Fuck, never mind... it's
not that funny." She gets up abruptly. "You want a blanket?"

Salem exhales a sighing breath and nods. "Yes, fine." He reaches over,
tucking the folded sunglasses into a pocket of his new coat, and then
starts unlacing a boot.

An uncertain hand lands on his shoulder. "You... you want somethin' to
drink? Or somethin'a help you sleep?" Her voice is softer, the pretense of
cheer gone.

Salem hesitates for several heartbeats, fingers motionless on the black
laces. Finally, though, he says, "No," very quietly.

Rina swallows, her voice cracking with hesitation. "Maybe tomorrow, we
could talk. I-- I have'em, too." Her hands slides away from his shoulder,
and she adds, a little steadier, "I'll bring you a pillow and a blanket.

Salem looks up, studying the kinswoman for several minutes. Then he nods,
and returns to the task of removing his boots. (His socks,
unimaginatively, are black, too.) "Thank you."

She isn't looking at him, when he glances up--and there is something about
her face, a shadow, a darkness that lingers in her eyes. A bleak
expression, the look of someone facing death. A moment later she blinks,
and walks toward the futon, fetching a spare blanket that lies folded
neatly at the foot of the bed. She brings it back, along with a
pillow--John's?--and sets both down on the arm of the couch.

Salem tugs off the other boot and sets it -- neatly, carefully -- next to
its brother. He regards the pillow and blanket, his face a study of mixed
emotions, wistful longing and bitter resentment. The look passes with a
near-inaudible sigh as he shakes out the blanket. "Six years," the
ex-Ronin mutters, half to himself.

Rina chews on her lower lip, a surreptitious gesture that only reinforces
the worry on her face. She comes up behind him and put a hand on his
shoulder again, firmer this time; then she leans over and kisses the top
of his head, ducking her cheek against the dark hair for a moment. "Get
some sleep," she whispers, and the hand tightens on his shoulder a moment
before letting go.

Salem becomes, abruptly, very still; that, clearly, was unexpected. A beat
later, he remembers himself, and says in return, "You, too."

She never actually turned on any lights; the ambient light from the street
spills in through large windows, leaving the room vaguely twilit by the
city's light pollution. So it's only dim, as Rina walks to the futon and
sits on the edge, to strip off her boots. There are faint sounds of fabric
moving, as she undresses and then crawls under the covers--but for a long,
long time, she lies awake, crying, tears running back in shining lines to
her temples. An hour passes, at least, before her breathing at last shifts
toward the steady, slow beat of sleep.

Salem lies back, stretching six-foot-something frame out on the couch,
fingers laced over his chest. He stares up at the dark ceiling for only a
short while before fatigue catches up with him and drops him into an
unsteady and unrestful unconsciousness.