15 Jan 2003

Salem answers on the second or third ring, sounding a little more languid than the full moon properly allows. "Jack here."

"Hey, babe." Rina sounds vaguely relieved. "Got a sec?"

Cat's working on his drawing, humming 'Madame Butterfly' or 'Ignus Spiritus', with Rina's footsteps background noise.

Her pacing stops, when she speaks; there is tension in her posture, and in her expression.

"Hm? Of course. What is it?"

"I got somethin'a ask you," she says quietly. "Somethin' I need you t'do for me. You free t'night?"

Salem's voice turns a little more serious. "I can be. What do you need? Or, hm, would you rather not say over the phone?"

Rina smiles to herself, ducking her head; her free hand rubs at the fuzz on the back of her skull. "Just somethin' I need you t'do for Cat. Take him to talk to a friend."

Cat peers at the page, nose dangerously close as he watches the pencil tip move oh-so-slowly. One curve of one feather...took a full minute.

"Hrm." There's a pause at the other end of the line. Then he admits, "I probably shouldn't be driving tonight."

There's a small silence before she murmurs, "Oh." She chews on her lower lip for a moment. "I could come get you... I mean, unless--" The swallow is somewhat labored. "Unless you're busy. We could make it tomorrow, or... or whenever. Before the moon's too small."

The smile has gone, her expression fallen slightly; she ducks her head, and scuffs a bare foot against the floor.

Cat glances up at Rina, humming fading to nothing as he watches her expression change. The pencil pauses.

"The--? Ah." There's another, shorter pause, and then he says, "No, no, that's fine. Come on over. I'll wait outside for you, all right?"

Rina closes her eyes briefly, and takes a careful breath. "Sure. Can you ride?"

"I think I can manage that," Salem replies, slowly. There's a touch of dry humor. "Just about."

Cat smiles to himself and turns back around, sketching happily once more, and starting on re-outlining the second wing. Although unfinished, it was recognizable.

Rina smiles faintly, ducking her head. "Aright. I'll be there in ten." She clicks the phone off and paces to the couch to put on her boots. A grin is flashed to the boy. "I'm gonna go get him, 'k? We'll be back soon."

The cub blinks, rather confused by the mood swing in Rina, but at her smile can't resist one of his own. "Be careful," he adds, face quite serious when he says it. "It's dark out."

A short time later the Ducati shows up in front of Red Mill, leaning to one side as she whips it around and skids to a halt.

Salem is, just as he said he would be, waiting outside, well bundled in coat and gloves, wearing the black sweatpants rather than his usual jeans or BDUs and sneakers instead of the normal boots. The Walker's taking a drag from a handrolled cigarette as she pulls up; he straightens up from a rather casual lean against the building.

For once she's wearing a helmet; she does lift the visor, to confirm her identity. As if the bike itself isn't confirmation enough. A gloved hand taps the seat behind her.

Salem sets the cigarette between his lips and prowls over toward the woman on the motorcyle with the air of a lazy cat. A big one, the kind that might go from lolling to killing in half a second and no warning. He climbs up behind her.

Rina slides one hand over his forearm and wrist, and then reaches forward to twist the throttle. The bike accelerates, and within minutes they are pulling to a stop in the Montrose.

"So who's this friend of yours?" Salem asks, finally, as she brings the bike to a halt. The ride through the darkened streets, frigid air whipping past them, has sobered the Philodox up a little. Though there's still a faint hint of Slavic accent in his voice.

The window of the apartment shows lights are on. Cat's still working on the sketch, nearly all of the circle drawn and filled with intricate swirly designs, like gusts of wind or vines. To the left of the circle one wing, ruffled by an unseen wind, is nearly done.

Rina reaches back with a hand to touch his thigh, his knee--and then signals him off the bike. She pulls off the helmet with the motions of habit, and rolls the bike back onto the parking stand before shutting off the motor. "His," she corrects, giving him a swift sidelong glance. "You sober enough to chaperone him to the other side, to talk to his spirit?"

She swings a leg over the bike and steps toward him, helmet hung on her wrist. There is something in her eyes--a tension that falls somewhere between desire and anger.

Salem inhales a sharp breath, then climbs off the bike. He takes the cigarette from his mouth, flicking it into the gutter. "His? Oh. Gabriel." He brushes back a stray lock of hair -- he's tied it back, but loosely -- and regards her rather archly. "I haven't had _that_ much to drink. I'm _fine_."

Rina purses her lips, regarding him with the slightest hint of a smile. "Good," she murmurs, turning on a heel and pacing to the door. Something is tight, in her expression, in her movements. She leads him upstairs, talking over her shoulder. "I promised him I'd find somebody to take him."

Salem follows her up, tugging off his gloves as they enter her building. "Should introduce him to Tesla," he remarks lazily. He seems oblivious to the tension within her; apart from the undercurrent of full-moon rage, there's almost none in him. "At least, then, _one_ of us could talk to him."

Cat is so engrossed in his task that even though a cop car goes by with alarms and tires squealing, he doesn't look up.

"Long as you don't let him go alone," Rina says. "Not until the -- not until he's ready." She runs fast up the stairs, to her apartment, only turning to look back to him when they reach the door. One long, strange glance, and then she turns back to the door.

The lock clicks, and Rina opens the door and steps in--with Salem looming behind her.

Salem's eyes narrow a touch, a hint of danger. "He's not supposed to cross over by himself. I've forbidden him from doing so." Then, with the door open, he enters after her and looks past her toward the cub. "Evening, Cat," he greets.

Cat bites his lower lip, the pencil making just...the...right...line...and then snapping all at once. He blinks at his tool in dismay, then looks up and finally notices the two adults enter. " Good evening Mister Salem," he grins, blowing the penciltip off the sketch and sitting back so he can see it. It's a ring, a circle, with designs inside the band and wings on either side. His version of the Gaia glyph. Under the coffee table lurk the cub's plushies and books. "D'you like it?"

Rina steps out of the way, to lock the door behind them; then she steps over to get a cursory glance at the sketch.

Salem slips his gloves into his coat pocket and then shrugs out of the big black garment as he prowls over toward the couch and the cub. He gives the sketch a somewhat cursory examination as he drapes his coat over the back of the couch. "Hm. Mm. Nice." Then his eye shifts lazily toward the cub himself. "Rina says you're looking to go visit Gabriel?"

Cat blinks, tilting his head as his smile fades away, slowly. "Oh, oh." Reality snaps back into his eyes as he nods. "Mmhmm, if it's not too much trouble? Could we please? I haven't seen him si- um, since way back at the farm." A glance at Rina, tinged with uncertainty, before he looks back at Salem. "And you've never met him, I bet he wants to meet you."

Rina lingers by the door. Dark eyes follow Salem, as she leans back against the frame. "I'd-- I'd really appreciate it, Jack," she says quietly. "Save me from goin' out to the farm."

A flash of irritation passes across the halfmoon's scarred face; it's a warning that, as amiable as his mood is, currently, it could change in an instant, and the usual strict control isn't quite so rigidly enforced, tonight. Salem grunts. "I'm here, yes?" He turns back to Cat, gesturing the boy up off the couch. "All right, let's go. You need more Umbra practice anyway."

Rina's chin lifts a fraction, and a flicker of answering warning shows in her eyes, a moment's defiance.

A worried glance between the two of them, and a flicker of fear in Cat. Salem's manner is different, almost like...but no. He wouldn't. With sudden reluctance Cat stands up, giving the sketch a sad and longing glance. "Ready sir," he says softly.

There's that faint undertone of Slavic accent coloring the Elder's speech, too... Salem's mouth curves into a crooked, sardonic smile. "Good. Let's go then." He heads over toward the bathroom, his gait loose and predatory. "I'll have him back in a bit," he tells Rina, over his shoulder, carelessly.

"I'll be here," she murmurs. Wetting her lips nervously, she watches them go.

Cat glances over his shoulder, smiling weakly at Rina as he follows Salem into the bathroom. She wouldn't have brought Salem if he wasn't in a good mood, the boy tells himself. Everything is fine. And now he's going to see Gabriel! It's that thought that perks the boy up again, makes him eager and willing.

Salem eyes his reflection rather sourly for a moment, then stares past it, his gaze unfocussing, a tightness in his jaw as he focusses his will on crossing the wall between the worlds of material and spirit. His form shimmers after a couple of minutes and then vanishes.

It doesn't take Cat quite so long, as he peers at his reflection. About a minute after Salem finds himself in the Umbra, Cat appears as well, perhaps quick enough to make the elder wonder if the cub really is 'out of practice.' "Oh I've missed here," he murmurs joyously, spinning about and taking the sights of the spirit world in. He's looking for one particular spirit.

The apartment glitters under Luna's wide-open gaze, pattern webs clinging to the walls, tended to by a myriad of tiny, spidery spirits that look as delicate as crystal. A largeish cockroach jaggling clings to one of the webs, unhindered, and waves its antennae at the two Glass Walkers; it's not the only one of its kind.

Cat peers at the large, nearby roach, then quickly looks elsewhere- it's not Gabriel. The roach he's looking for has actally found him already, and is scuttling up behind him to bump into his legs with its antenna. The cub looks down, face splitting into a delighted grin. "Gabriel!" he crows, kneeling down beside the roach. It's the size of a puppy, a blue-black shell that glitters madly. The roach scrambles into his lap for the hug the boy gives it. "I missed you..."

Salem tilts his head to one side, watching the cub and the spirit with a casual eye and a faint smile quirking one side of his mouth. The Philodox reaches up, pushing back a lock of hair that's escaped the hastily-made pony tail and paces a circular path around the pair, glancing around and making sure that there's nothing about to swoop down and try to eat them.

The antennae of the cockroach play about on the boy's face, confirming his identity. Cat, still smiling, leans close and whispers to the spirit, his voice falling far too low for even ultra-alert Salem to catch more than a few words. "....Rina, and...books, I got a book...do you see? You see, don't you, you see...and I think...soon, together."

"What's that you're telling him, Cat?" Salem cocks his head and, satisfied that all is well for the moment, moves toward the boy and the spirit. He looms over the pair, hands pushed into the pockets of his sweatpants. That lock of hair's stubborn, and hangs loosely over the left side of his face, partially obscuring the dead eye.

"Secrets," Cat murmurs slyly, glancing up at the towering Salem for a brief moment, smiling, but quickly returns to his whisperings to the roach spirit, whom he still hasn't let go of. 'Gabriel' is practically vertical against the boy's chest, with the cub's arms supporting him there. "...you have to be careful...art...the family...did you like the one I did of you?" He leans back and releases the spirit, who scuttles back a bit so that his antennae tickle Cat under the chin. He laughs, catching the antennae in his hand and holding them for an instant. "You're getting bigger! Just like me!" His voice goes soft again, whispery. "Miz Rina says..."

Salem shakes his head a bit, still smiling faintly, and wanders off again. Not far, just enough to give the two friends some sense of privacy. A Lune flits downward, slipping through the window -- there's no glass in it, not on this side -- and dodging the spiders and webs in order to toy with the ex-Ronin's hair. He swats at it absent-mindedly, like a cat, shooing it off with a trace of annoyance -- another sign of the hair-trigger temper.

The Lune swirls, twisting and bobbing around itself, then swoops down on Cat and Gabriel like a cross between a hawk and an overenthusiastic puppy.

A slap to his face with an antennae and sudden chittering makes Cat look up, just as the unfamiliar Lune-spirit comes sweeping over his head. With a startled cry, the cub ducks and huddles over Gabriel protectively, the Lune missing grabbing onto his curls by a few inches.

Salem glances over at the sound of Cat's distress and snorts. "It's just a damn Lune, Cat. Sliver of moonlight. They're harmless. Chaotic, but harmless."

The Lune twirls like a silver ribbon caught on some invisible, endless breeze, twisting 'round and 'round over Cat's head.

Straightening slowly, Cat sits up and tries to follow the Lune with his eyes, a hard task because it keeps going in circles. Gabriel chitters comfortingly. The boy blinks at the roach, then reaches a hand out towards the Lune. "Hello," he tells it softly, palm out as if it were a wayward kitten. "My name's Cat and this is Gabriel."

The Lune bobs, then slides along Cat's fingers and wraps around his hand and wrist. It's cool to the touch and barely seems to be there. It feels like the silent little spirit might dissolve without warning.

Cat grins, bringing his hand to his face slowly so he can try to get a closer look at it. He never moves his fingers. "You're pretty," he murmurs, smiling at the little moonlight child. "Like a big silver string on the wind. But I bet you know that, don't you? Hey...do you think...?" He whispers something then, words hushed and hurried.

The Lune wriggles, sending a little chilly -- but not entirely unpleasant -- feeling down the cub's arm, then disengages and flits upward again to tease some of the small, glasslike spiders, darting to and fro, just out of their reach.

Smiling fondly at the strange little ribbon, Cat looks back down at Gabriel. "Can you remember all that, please? Because I'll have so much to tell you next time. They'll be together soon, don't you think?" The roach seems to consider that, antennae tapping against his arm faintly. "I hope so. It's fragile. But...I can't figure out the before-time. Something's missing." The boy's nearly forgotten Salem's presence, it seems, for he talks as if he and Gabriel are alone. His voice is at normal volume, but worried. "Can you try to find her, please? Miz Rina said there are no angels, but I don't think she remembers right. Please just try."

Salem's lips thin; he focusses more directly on the cub, his eyes narrowing. "Who are you looking for, Cat?" His voice is lowered, holding a touch of danger along with that hint of Slavic accent.

Cat looks up, sudden remembrance followed by uncertainty. "Nobody," he murmurs slowly, hand stroking Gabriel's shell.

Salem shifts his weight, hands coming out of his pockets to hang loosely at his sides, at the ready. "Don't lie. I can tell, remember?"

Above them, the Lune continues to play, to the consternation of the spiders.

The boy frowns, as if something were nagging him. Perhaps it's the tugging on his sleeves that Gabriel's mandibles are doing. "It's a secret," he says apologetically. "Only for Gabriel. I'm sorry."

Salem's eyes remain narrowed. "I see," he says, in an edged tone that suggests that he doesn't approve. He grunts, glancing around. "Anything you wanted to ask me, about... this?" He waves vaguely, the gesture indicating their environs.

Cat looks up, his grocery list for Gabriel at the pause. "Do you think...why is there a Lune inside Miz Rina's house? If it's moonlight, it ought to be outside, shouldn't it?"

Salem glances up, watching the Lune at play and the annoyed spiders. "Who knows what motivates Lunes?" He shrugs. "You can ask Andrea-rhya. Or Daisy, even."

As the two Walkers watch, the Lune darts too close to the web, and becomes stuck. It flails about, thrashing frantically, as the crystalline weaver-arachnids move in.

"Oh no," Cat murmurs, gently moving Gabriel to the ground and standing, walking over and around other bug spirits as he makes his way towards the Lune and the web its in. "He's stuck." He reaches upward, trying to pluck the spirit out without tipping over...he has to get on tiptoe because it's -just- out of reach.

Salem grunts. "Let me." The taller Walker crosses the distance in a few long strides, shifting upward into Crinos. ~Sorry,~ he growls to the Weaver spirits, curtly, and slashes the Pattern web holding the Lune with all the ruthlessness of a hitman and the precision of a surgeon.

Cat jumps back as the web is broken, watching glittery pieces fall away in dismay. "Did you have to break it?" he says sadly, reaching for the Lune spirit to offer it his hand again. "Now the spiders have to make it all over again."

Salem reverts back to human form in a swift twist of muscle and sinew. "That's what they live for," he says, shaking off a few clinging strands of webbing from his fingers. The Lune trembles skittishly in Cat's hand, then darts away and out the open window, while the pattern spiders swarm over the patch of broken web, already busy in repairing it, their motions jittery and angry. Salem eyes their activity narrowly, then jerks his head at his student. "We should go. Leave them to it."

"He really is sorry," Cat whispers to the spiders, looking down to find Gabriel crawling over his shoe. He picks the roach spirit up in his arms again with a sad look at Salem as its antennae poke at his bangs. "Do you think there's a way for Gabriel to come to the Realm with us?"

Salem shrugs, broad shoulders rolling loosely. "Some spirits have the power to materialize in the Realm. Some can't. Perhaps, one day, Gabriel will learn how."

That earns the roach spirit a hopeful glance. "I know I've been asking a lot," Cat murmurs to Gabriel. "Y'don't have to look for her. Maybe you should try to learn to reach too, then we could be together all the time." The spirit chitters calmly as the cub hugs him gently, scuttling down the front of the boy's pants to the floor once he lets him go. Immediately afterward, Cat looks quite tired. "Okay, we can go," he mumbles, forcing himself to blink. "Miz Rina will be worried."

Salem waves the boy toward the mirror, which on this side has a glimmering quicksilver appearance. "Go on, then. I'll follow." The air of indulgent patience has reached its end, it seems; a sour mood is settling on the Philodox like a gathering of stormclouds.

"Bye Gabriel," Cat tells the roach spirit in a last, mournful goodbye, before looking into the mirror and blinking at his distorted reflection, if you could call it that. In a moment or two he shimmers, then simply isn't there anymore. The roach spirit chitters again, his antennae feeling about the ground before he's satisfied Cat has left.

Salem gives Gabriel a final glance, then follows the cub back across the Gauntlet. His arrival to the other side is delayed; it's several minutes before he joins Cat back in the Realm, and he looks distinctly disgruntled.

"What took you so long?" Cat exclaims, the look on his face clearly showing he'd been on the verge of panicking when the Philodox didn't appear right away. "I was about to get Miz Rina."

Rina leans over the desk, working on a large sketchpad with charcoal and pencil. Multiple figures stride across the page, in a loosely drawn analysis of motion. Salem, barreling forward. Salem, glancing over his shoulder like someone haunted. A closer view of the good side of his face, looking out balefully from the page. She is absorbed in it, and doesn't even hear them until they are out of the bathroom.

Salem scowls down at Cat as though irritated by the question. "It just takes me longer sometimes. Come on, shoo, it's too damned crowded in here for two." He hustles the cub out of the bathroom, following close behind.

Cat blinks as he's herded out, trying to decide if he really heard Salem say 'shoo' or if perhaps, like usual, he'd given too much gnosis again. "Miz Rina, we're back," he calls out softly, peeking around the corner at the Kin. "Gabriel was there, and a Lune!"

Rina smudges a line, and looks over her shoulder; she unfolds gracefully from the drafting chair. A smile comes to her face--a hint of a grin for Cat, and something softer for Salem. The look in those dark eyes is subdued, now, but the fire is still there.

The mildly sodden good mood has definitely evaporated from the saturnine halfmoon; Salem flicks away the loose strand of hair -- without result, since it falls right back over his face -- with a grimace. He meets Rina's eyes, his gaze lingering on the kinswoman, as flat and unreadable as an animal. His nostrils flare as he turns away, stalking toward his coat. "Looks good on that side," he grunts. "Lots of webs, of course, but no obvious corruption."

The boy yawns, stepping over to Rina's side to glance at her sketches, blue eyes blinking at the charcoal marks. "Oh lookee," he murmurs, "it's Salem-rhya. Salem-rhya," he says a bit more loudly, looking at the cliath over his shoulder. "Miz Rina drew pictures of you."

Rina swallows, and stands her ground. She pales a little, though, when Cat speaks. "No Wyrm," she murmurs. "Good." Her eyes remain steady on Salem.

Salem lifts the heavy cloth coat and shrugs into it, the motion arrested by Cat's words. He lifts his eyes, regarding Rina again with that same flat, unreadable stare. "Yes," he says, after a long moment. "Good." He looks away, then, pulling out his gloves and starting to tug them on. "I'd better go. Getting pissy. Need to hurt something."

Rina wets her lips nervously, and catches the lower between her teeth. She takes three steps forward, toward the Walker. "Let me come out with ya," she says quietly. "I'll watch y'back."

Cat winces, murmuring something that doesn't quite translate to english, and stumbles to the couch, sitting down and then lying down with obvious relief. "Sleepy," he announces, reaching for the blanket that lies folded at the end. "'M tired."

Salem shakes his head sharply, sparing not a glance for either the boy or the woman. "No. Wouldn't be a good idea. Stay here with the boy." He pulls on the second glove, then turns a direct, authoritive stare onto Rina. "Don't follow me." He says again, "It wouldn't be a good idea."

Swallowing, Rina takes another step toward him. Her eyes are guarded, her posture taut. She lifts her chin a fraction, and for an instant it seems she might defy him--but all she says is, "You shouldn't be alone."

Cat kicks off his shoes, a long day catching up with him as he pulls the blankets tight about him. He yawns again, reaching for the plushies under the coffee table and managing to grab only Sunshine, which doesn't matter because he's oh-so-tired. Hugging the tiny dog tightly, he mumbles something that sounds like "G'night Miz Rina" before he stops moving about. In mere moments, he's sound asleep.

"Better that I am," Salem replies. He looks away again, toward the cub settling into sleep, then shakes his head sharply and turns for the door.

Rina's hands clench at her sides, with the effort of staying put. "Be careful," she says, hoarse and soft. "Watch y'back."

Salem pauses at the door, his hand on the knob and his back to her. "I will. And you watch yours. Call you tomorrow." He heads out, then, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

The wind drops out of her sails, then, and she wraps both arms around herself. She watches the door for a long moment before turning away and pacing deliberately to the window. The tears roll down her cheeks, and for a time she stands there crying.