It is currently 22:37 Pacific Time on Tue Feb 18 2003.

Currently in Saint Claire, it is raining lightly. The temperature is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 30.13 and falling, and the relative humidity is 100 percent. The dewpoint is 42 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.)

Currently the moon is in the waning Full Moon phase (83% full).

Harbor Park -- The Meadow

One of the last bastions of green left in the city, mottled and withered grass and weeds covers the earth like a badly stained carpet, with the construction work turning what is left into just bare dirt. The vegetation seems marginally healthier the further it is from the river and much healthier towards the central area of the park around the fountain. Construction work is ongoing here: a raised earthen berm about five feet tall is being built all around the park perimeter, with two breaks each at the Bridge Street entrance and the First Street end. Wooden posts are being erected at regular intervals all along the earthen wall, while tasteful iron gates and fences are being added at the entrances. Overpowering the scent of living vegetation are the exhaust fumes from a busy street to the west and an unpleasant stench from the Columbia River to the east. From the street view or river view, the park is now isolated, as if it existed apart from the city. People in tall buildings have an excellent view of any goings-ons for now, though. In the center of the park, a small glade of six tall trees and a flower bed surrounds the fountain.

The murky waters of the Columbia River flow swiftly along the east side of the park. Bracketing the park to the west is First Street and the city of St. Claire.

Salem prowls near the river, boots trudging through the wet grass, the collar of his coat turned up and his shoulders hunched against the rain. A cigarette dangles from his lips, the end burning a dull orange. He's been out for a while; though it's raining only lightly, his hair is soaked.

"Nasty habit, that." Her voice comes from a few feet behind him, toward the river; she speaks softly, gently almost, wary of startling him.

Salem tenses, his head coming up, back straightening. He turns slowly, his head first, that one dark eye fixing on her, and then the rest of his body. One corner of his mouth twitches upward slightly as he shrugs. "No argument."

Rina cocks an eyebrow, and smiles her most winning lopsided smile. "Good. I don't kiss men who smoke."

Salem blinks at her, rather owlishly, then snorts in dry amusement and pushes his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. "You shouldn't be out here. Catch your death."

Rina bares her teeth in a rather more rakish grin, and tips her chin up triumphantly. "Why d'you think I'm here, then?"

Salem shakes his head, his expression rueful, and takes the cigarette from his mouth. "Touche," he rasps, flicking ash onto the wet ground.

Rina lifts one shoulder, and glances down. "Mmm. Looking for the devil, actually," she murmurs. "Not death."

"You found him," Salem replies, putting the cigarette back to his lips and inhaling deeply. "How was Chicago?"

Rina nods slowly. "It worked out okay," she says quietly. "Not as good as it might be, but then..." She steps up even with him, and gives him a swift, sidelong look. "They're cagey, those wiseguys."

Salem lets the cigarette dangle between his lips again as he buries his hands back in his coat pockets. He starts moving, walking slowly alongside the river. "Being cautious is a worthy survival tactic."

Rina falls naturally into step beside him. "/That/ was what we in drama call *pointed*."

Salem glances sidelong down at her, eyebrow rising. "Hrm?"

Rina smiles ruefully, and shakes her head. "Never mind," she murmurs, lowering her eyes again. "Maybe it wasn't, after all." Her steps are slow and meditative, near-silent against barren grass and dirt.

Salem grunts. "Sorry." He hunches his shoulders, stifling a shiver. "I'm stupid tonight. Big dumb animal."

Rina chuckles quietly. "Don't think I'm gonna fall for /that/ one," she murmurs, eyes on the ground ahead.

"Of course not," Salem says, glancing sidelong at her. "Don't supposed you'd fall for the 'I know a shortcut to Grandma's house' trick, either."

Rina breaks into a wolfish grin, and glances over to him. "Might go along with it, just for kicks?" she says brightly.

Salem smiles crookedly at the ground in front of his boots. "Hmm. Maybe not. That story ends with a stomachful of rocks and a drowning." His gaze flicks over toward the river.

"Long as I'm the one who gets drowned," she says lightly. "Tribe needs you more."

Salem snorts. "_You_ get eaten. _I_ get drowned." He purses his lips. "Though who would be the woodsman, in that case?"

Rina spreads her hands. "Okay, metaphor gone way too far." She gives him the flash of a wry, dark smile.

"Always hated that story anyway." Salem glances at her and then away, his expression turning solemn again. He inhales on the cigarette again, slowly.

She considers him for a long moment. "Maybe y'oughta keep smoking," she suggests quietly. "Might be a good way to keep me outta trouble."

Salem pauses a moment to give her a look of mingled wariness and bemusement.

One corner of her mouth tugs upward a fraction, rueful and grim, and the dark eyes slide away from his. "Just a thought," she murmurs.

"Hrm," he says. He walks in silence for a few moments. "Got a bit of a raise the other day."

Rina's brow furrows. "Raise?"

Salem arches an eyebrow at her. "At work? Not much of one, but..." He takes another drag off the cigarette. "Eddie Lo can't be brought in," he adds with a shrug, referring to his employer. "But he can be bought. He'll even stay bought, to a point, anyway."

Rina purses her lips. "Hm. Too bad for Fast Eddie," she says dryly. The dark eyes slide over to him, thoughtful and veiled.

Salem frowns faintly, eyeing her. "...What?"

She looks over to him again, blinking innocently. "Hm? Oh. I mean, he won't be part of the earning, y'know."

"He could still be useful," the Philodox remarks, relaxing slightly. "But he's not Family. Or anything remotely like it."

Rina rolls her eyes. "Well. Duh."

Salem's shoulders hunch, lips thinning. He grunts and looks away, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. "So. What's our next step?"

Rina ducks her head. "I don't know," she murmurs. "No more business t'night, aright?" There is a tension in her voice, something born of nervousness--either from being near him, or from her own response to the fullness of the moon.

Salem rolls his shoulders in a shrug that's not as casual as he probably meant it to be. "All right. No business."

"Sorry," she murmurs, awkwardly. "Been thinking about it for days. Stressing." She walks a little closer to him, near enough to reach out and touch.

Salem nods slightly. "Understood." He lapses back into silence and continues walking slowly as cold rain spits down on them both.

Rina wraps both arms around herself, and lets the rain slide down her jacket. "You been aright? Hadn't ... seen you since dinner, last week..."

Salem shrugs faintly. "I've been keeping busy," he murmurs around the half-smoked cigarette. There's a touch of dull tiredness at the edge of his voice; his shoulders tighten as he refrains from another shiver.

"Hey..." Worry touches her eyes as she comes to his side. "Lemme walk back with ya... I mean, it's frickin' cold."

Salem grunts. "It's always cold. Not that I'll catch one. We don't, you know. Haven't been sick in years." He turns his feet in the direction of Red Mill.

Rina smiles a little, faintly--but that smile is directed to the ground at her feet. "Yeah. Doesn't mean I like watching you shiver." She swallows, then, and glances furtively toward him.

"Touching," he rasps, mumbling around the cigarette, but one corner of his mouth quirks upward in a thin smile.

"You know me," she murmurs. "I'm such a softie." Another step closer, and she moves to slide an arm gingerly around his waist.

"Mm," Salem comments, eloquently. He glances down at her, just for a moment, and then lapses into silence again.

From afar, Rina blinks. He LETS her?

You paged Rina with 'He's tired.

From afar, Rina awwws.

She doesn't press that silence, and doesn't break it, for quite some time. There are no demands in the way she walks next to him, close at his side--only a wish to share space and shelter, and maybe closeness, against the hostility of the elements.

Salem finishes his cigarette and flicks the butt into a gutter that's streaming with rainwater; it soon gets carried along to the nearest drain and the sewer pipes beneath the city. He pauses as they reach the steps of his building and glances at her. "You, mm, want me to call you a cab?"

Rina lifts a shoulder, turning to look up at him with a quiet half-smile. "I'll do it," she says easily. "No worries."

Salem smiles wanly, then glances upward. Most of the windows are dark, but a few remain lit, and a couple of those are on the sixth floor, where he lives. He rubs a gloved hand over his face and looks back at Rina, considering her. "You sure?"

The dark eyes meet his, steady, and she gives a small nod. "Yeah," she says quietly. "I'm good."

Salem nods. "All right." He climbs the first step, then glances back again, brow slightly furrowed. "Give me a call sometime. To talk business... or whatever."

Something almost self-deprecating tugs at the corner of her smile. "Yeah." She watches him go, not quite fondly, her eyes veiled.

Salem mutters, "Right." He gives her another look before finishing the climb up the steps and through the front doors of the apartment building.