It is currently 18:07 Pacific Time on Sun Jan 4 2004.

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

Cockroach Mansion -- Tower

Unlike the rest of the mansion, the interior of the four-story-tall tower has a
      rough and almost medieval feel to it. It's all concrete and stone and 
      exposed lightbulbs. There's one room per floor, plus a basement 
      underneath; a winding iron staircase leads from one level to the next.

The highest floor of the tower provides the best view of the grounds and
      surrounding neighborhood; there are several windows with dark brown 
      curtains and a couple of chairs to sit in. A black trunk acts as a 
      makeshift coffee table and footrest, and there's even carpeting. 
      Interestingly enough, all the windows are set with heavy black iron bars. 
      On one wall hangs a whiteboard and some dry-erase markers and matching 
      eraser.

The rest of the rooms are used mostly for storage and have a chilly, shadowy,
      dusty feel. In the irregularly-shaped basement reigns the boiler.

There are cockroaches everywhere, on every floor of the tower.

Clump, clump, clump... Salem's boots are heavy on the stairs, heading for the
      door to Joshua's cell.

Either someone had fiddled with the thermostat, or the heating went crazy.
      Either way, inside the tower it was no longer the usual insane cool, 
      rather, a near jungle like heat. The pleasant dripping noise drips away, 
      and the wind howls past the outside walls. And up on the top floor, a 
      disaster area can be found. In multiple places, concrete is fractured, 
      and chairs are overturned all over. Most notably, in the middle of the 
      floor there's a big pool of blood all: a slick with Crinos paw prints 
      tracking through them; the far wall has a blood smear on it as well. Josh 
      lay on the cot provided, covered by a blanket, but his face is painted in 
      the same blood that is on the floor, out cold.

Salem's nostrils flare as, from the doorway, he takes in the scene. He resists
      the urge to bare his teeth, however. Quietly, methodically, he closes the 
      door behind him and steps through the battered, wet-hot room toward the 
      boy on the cot.

Joshua groans, turning in his sleep on his side. His hands are bloody too.

Salem clears his throat, then kicks the cot, jarring it enough, hopefully, to
      wake the cub.

Joshua's eyes slowly open, before he blinks as he wakes. "Wuhhh..." he starts,
      slowly moving his head to look at Salem confusedly.

Salem snaps his fingers a bit in Joshua's face, then steps back and gestures
      expansively at the wreckage around them.

Joshua sits abruptly upright, not realizing his cloths where lost in earlier as
      well (again). He cub looks at the wreckage, and at the blood... then at 
      his own hands. "Wha... what happened? What happened?!" His face grows 
      frightened as the seconds progress. "What happened?!" His feet 
      frantically peddle, pushing the cot against the wall.

Salem holds up a hand. He hesitates, then -- grimacing -- speaks with that
      irritatingly high, grating voice he's been cursed with. "Frenzy, 
      probably. Calm down."

"Frenzy? Calm down?!" He stares at his hands, swallowing: still some blood in
      his mouth too. "Oh god... Oh god! I did this? Oh god! I did this!?" Josh 
      is clearly not calming down.

Salem's eyes narrow. He looks around again, then back at the boy. Teeth
      gritted, he asks, "What do you remember?"

Joshua keeps staring at his bloodied shaking hands. "I... I don't. I was laying
      on the floor becouse it was cool and it's hot in here and then... Oh 
      god!" he coveres his face with his hands, trying not to see Salem.

Salem waits a few moments, then prompts, "And then?"

Josh takes his hands off his face, leaving more there than was before. "I
      don't!" He adds desperately. "... there was a knife, 'n then..." and if 
      the Cub couldn't grow any worse, he does. "Oh my god! Mister Anthony!" He 
      cries out loudly.

Salem runs a hand back over his stubbled head, then makes a beckoning gesture.
      "You need to clean up." He frowns, then gives Joshua a hard, _hard_ look. 
      "Don't run." Then he starts toward the door.

Joshua nods sharply, but doesn't move an inch, until Salem leaves the room. His
      breathing is still up and rapid, frightened at the prospect of 
      retribution either way.

Cockroach Mansion -- Downstairs

The heavy, dark opulence to this mansion known as Dominion is perfectly
      exemplified by the room vistors first enter, this front hall. 
      Dark-stained wood serves as paneling on the walls, gleams with high gloss 
      in the hardwood floor, and supports a semi-circular balcony in carved 
      pillars. The heavy double doors, made of oak, open into the hall from the 
      south, opposite the huge, hourglass-shaped staircase composed of red and 
      black gneiss which soars up to the balcony; both are fenced in with a 
      wooden railing of simple spiraled posts. Several doorways can be made out 
      on the second floor, nearly blending in discreetly with the back wall. 
      The wall to the left of the front doors is composed entirely of windows 
      which run from the forty-foot-tall domed dark wood ceiling to the floor; 
      if drawn, the heavy velvet drapes of deep red would completely mask them 
      from view, but when parted, as they often are, one has a marvelous view 
      of the grounds outside.

A doorway to the right of the front doors leads to a parlor, and towards the
      back are the kitchens, the large dining room, and Salem's office.

Rina glances over to him, startled, the frown staying. "Um. Hi. You know what
      happened, at all?" She gestures to the bloodstains.

"Josh attacked me," Tony replies matter-of-factly. "I kind of made a mess when
      I left to clean up, but..." He trails off, looking down at the floor 
      embarrassedly.

Salem escorts the blood-covered cub from the tower like a prison guard, intent
      on marching the boy upstairs to the nearest bathroom for a much-needed 
      shower and change of clothes.

Joshua quickly pulled on a new pair of sweat pants before rushing down the
      metal to follow Salem, even though they where red from the result of the 
      fight as well. His bare feet can be heard all the way down the iron 
      stairwell as he rushes to follow the Elder.

Salem pauses as he and Joshua come out to the front hall and lays a hand on the
      cub's shoulder, stopping him before they head up the big staircase. He 
      looks at Rina, then at Tony, and crooks a finger at the latter.

Anthony nods and starts towards the foot of the staircase, moving a little
      slowly, partially because he was pretty sore from being attacked, but 
      also out of apprehension, not sure how Salem would react.

Rina glances toward the stairs, her expression darkening. "Oh. Fuckin' great."
      She lets out a breath, and looks to Salem. "Later, maybe. Unless y'want 
      me in on this, I'll be in the parlor."

Joshua stops as Salem puts his hand on his shoulder him, and that's all that
      restrains him from running over to Anthony. "Anthony! Thank god your all 
      right! I... I though I..." Josh gushes relived.

"I'm not all right," Anthony replies darkly. To demonstrate, he gingerly unzips
      his jacket and peels it off, revealing a labyrinthine system of 
      jury-rigged bandages covering his wounds. He stops to take a breather, 
      leaning against a bannister.

Salem gives Anthony's numerous wounds and bandages a very hard stare... and
      then looks down at Joshua, the cub, who's covered with blood... but is 
      any of it his own?

Josh's relived face turns back to Horror as Anthony shows him the damage dealt.
      "Aw shit... I'm sorry Anthony. I... I didn't mean to! I didn't, really! I 
      just... I couldn't help it!"

Anthony pulls his jacket on very carefully, wincing when it rubs his shoulder
      the wrong way. "You're lucky I was only trying to knock you out," he 
      says. "If this had been a regular fight..." He leaves the jacket unzipped.

Salem's nostrils flare, and he turns his ill-tempered regard back to Anthony.
      He's unwilling to speak, but it's clear that there's a lot he could say. 
      He shakes his head, then starts steering Joshua up the stairs. He beckons 
      Anthony to come along with -- and Rina's included in the gesture, 
      presuming that she sees it.

Anthony sighs and nods, trailing behind slowly. Another day of failures, he
      muses.

Rina's frown darkens further. "Ant'ny, if you need help wrappin' that, lemme
      know." She gives Joshua a level look, as she heads toward the stairs, 
      following them up.

Joshua nods to Anthony, before he's pulled up the stairs by Salem. He looks
      really ashamed.

Cockroach Mansion -- Upstairs

The dark opulence of the mansion's decor continues into the upper floors, where
      rooms are numerous and hallways are long. Most of the rooms are empty and 
      haven't been opened for years; only a few are furnished and even fewer 
      actually occupied. Still, the hardwood floors are in good repair, and the 
      hallways are well-lit.

Salem steers Joshua toward the first bathroom on the second floor and gives him
      a not-that-rough push inside. The only window is too small for the boy to 
      get through even in homid, so it's fairly safe from escape attempts. Then 
      he closes the door, folds his arms across his chest, and glowers at 
      Anthony.

Anthony is quiet, standing near the top of the staircase and looking over the
      railing. "I don't know what happened," he mumbles.

Joshua sighs as he look into the mirror at his own bloody vistage. It's a
      moment, but then the shower can be heard running.

Salem grimaces, then gets his PDA out of a back pocket. He scribbles out a few
      words, then shows it to the Ragabash: "A cub beat you up?"

Anthony glances at the offered PDA. "He got in a couple good hits," he replies.
      "And besides, I wasn't sure if I should've fought back. I didn't want to 
      hurt him..." He trails off, chewing his lip pensively.

Salem shakes his head. He still looks rather displeased. He erases the message
      and writes out a new one. "Get J new clothes. Can you Dedicate?"

Rina crosses her arms, and leans back against a patch of wall. The helmet
      dangles from its strap, hooked over one elbow; she is still wearing her 
      jacket, with gauntlets hanging messily out of one pocket.

The shower cuts off, as Josh moves out to dry up.

Rina pages: She looks... like hell. Like she hasn't slept much in a few days.

Anthony again reads the question, then shakes his head at the written question.

Salem grimaces. He clears the screen, then waves Anthony off for
      clothes-fetching on Joshua's behalf.

"Where's his room?" Tony asks, moving away from the railing.

Salem, in answer, points down the hall. Not exactly helpful.

Out the door walks a cleaner Joshua: save for the bloody pants, there's no sign
      that he shredded the Elder anymore. But still, the crestfallen look 
      remains.

Anthony nods slowly, starting a sequential search down the hall for Josh's room.

"Third on the left, I think," Rina calls out helpfully.

Salem glances down at Joshua and manages a tight-lipped and rather humorless
      smile.

Anthony nods again, checking out Rina's suggestion. He disappears inside.

Joshua writhers under Salems gaze. Biting his lip, he looks to his bare feet.

Rina gives Joshua a level look. "You wanted t'know why you hafta learn about
      what you are? /That/'s why." She gestures fiercely down the hall toward 
      Anthony.

Salem nods in curt, wordless agreement, arms folded across his chest.

"I'm Sorry!" Josh softly cries, despondent. "I... just could help myself. He
      pulled a knife 'n put it to my throat... then... and I though he was 
      really stabbing me for good! I didn't know!" He doesn't look at either 
      Salem or Rina, wiping his nose on his bare arm.

Anthony comes back, carrying yet another T-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He
      overhears Josh, and decides to explain himself: "I figured if I pretended 
      to threaten him he'd be more likely to be able to shift; that's how I 
      learned back home," he says.

Rina nods curtly. "It's a common way of teachin' it, in the tribe. Forcin' the
      change by panic. But it /can/ lead to Frenzy... kind of a drawback." Her 
      expression twists slightly.

Joshua squirms once more, shifting from foot to foot. "'m Sorry..." Is all he
      can manage, and quietly at that.

Salem shakes his head. Unfolding his arms, he takes the clothes from Anthony,
      then gestures Joshua closer. "Talisman Dedication," the Elder says 
      curtly. He snaps a look at Tony. "Explain it."

Anthony pauses, looking up at Salem, then to Joshua. "A rite that allows
      someone to have something bound to them so that they stay with them in 
      all their forms ... usually clothing."

Rina snorts. "'Cause people don't like tearin' up their clothes when they
      shift, or always havin' to take 'em off." She frowns and glances to 
      Anthony. "Can't you use it for, like, weapons and stuff, too?"

Anthony considers it for a minute. "I think so," Anthony says.

Salem, while Anthony and Rina talk, goes down on one knee and lays out the
      sweatpants and t-shirt, arranging them on the floor in front of him. 
      Reaching into his back pocket, he withdraws a small pocket-knife and 
      holds a hand out to Joshua.

Joshua looks at Salem, then cautiously extends his hand to him, not sure what's
      going on.

Salem takes Joshua's hand in an iron grip. He looks hard into the cub's eyes,
      glowering, then brings the knife small, sharp blade to the cub's palm. A 
      quick slice, and the boy bleeds in a thin red line; the Philodox's grip 
      on him doesn't lessen.

"Be still," Rina says quietly. "He's doin' the rite."

The Rite goes smoothly, mainly because Salem seems insistant that it be so. The
      t-shirt and sweatpants are annointed with a few drops of Josh's blood 
      each and, when it's done, the cub has some clothes that won't turn into 
      dustrags when he changes forms. Then Salem sends the boy upstairs to the 
      tower room and locks him in with some rags, some garbage bags, and a good 
      deal of soapy water, and after locking the cub in for some major cleaning 
      before him, returns to the main house and heads for the parlor.

Cockroach Mansion -- Parlor

This room is a palette of whitewash and wood tones, a cross between a library
      and an adult's recreation room. To the right of the door way, tall 
      windows with a deep-set seat and heavy earth-brown velvet drapes show a 
      view of the front lawn. The far and left hand walls are inset with wooden 
      bookshelves just over man-height tall; the collection of books is varied, 
      with both fiction and non-fiction. The floor is well-carpeted in a light 
      tan color, and the furnishings -- an old but nice-looking couch plus 
      several armchairs and small tables -- match the decor. One side of the 
      room boasts a fairly impressive-looking entertainment center, complete 
      with high-definition television.

Rina drops her helmet and gloves into one of the chairs, and flops onto the
      couch. "You get my message?" she asks Salem, eyeing him through a haze of 
      fatigue.

Salem prowls around toward his usual chair, but doesn't sit. He glances over at
      Rina and nods once in answer to her question.

Rina brings up one hand to rub at her temples, shielding her eyes. "And? Does
      anybody have the fucking rite? Do you?" She lowers the hand to look at 
      him.

Salem folds his arms across his chest, scowling. He shakes his head, then looks
      over at Anthony.

Anthony is sitting stiffly near the windows. His gaze wanders around the room,
      not paying attention to the conversation.

"Well, fuck," Rina mutters, drawing up one knee and cradling it to her, heel
      perched on the edge of the couch.

The front gate buzzer goes off, and if there are cameras then Cutter can be
      seen in them.

Salem gives Anthony a disgusted look, then stalks off to go let Cuttrer into
      the gloom and doom that is, tonight, Roach Mansion.

Anthony relaxes a little when Salem leaves the room, though he still stays
      quiet.

Cutter nods to Salem. "I was hoping, with the moon getting big, that I could
      ask you about crossing over into the house Velvet, to investigate the 
      weird spirity stuff."

Rina glances over to Anthony, sidelong. "He's not all that bad, really," she
      says quietly.

"I know. I just can't seem to do anything right around him," he replies sotto
      voce.

Salem nods to the Shadow Lord, then walks with him over to the parlor, where
      everybody (well, Rina and Anthony) are gathered. The Walker Elder looks 
      pissy and out of sorts. Moreso than usual, that is.

Cutter says "I'd like to go. And I don't think it'd be safe without back up--a
      couple of people you trust on your turf and I trust not to get me killed."

Rina shakes her head minutely. Her voice is soft, almost a whisper. "It's just
      that he--" She glances to the doorway, as he enters, and then musters a 
      wan smile at the sight of Cutter. "Hey... Wassup?"

Salem nods again at Cutter, offering up nothing else. He still doesn't move to
      sit, but lurks restlessly around the edges of the room.

Someone comes down the stairs, the last one creaking a bit. He heads into the
      kitchen, glancing curiously into the parlor when he hears voices, pausing 
      when he recognizes them. Cat blinks, but slowly goes on into the kitchen 
      and starts getting out a bowl. Late night breakfast?

Rina presses her lips together, and leans back. Her helmet and gloves occupy
      one of the lighter chairs, but she has settled in one end of the couch, 
      knee drawn up to her chest.

Cutter wanders over near Rina. "Hey. I still haven't found anybody to help our
      boy. It's beginning to piss me off."

"Me neither," she answers, hoarse from lack of sleep. She doesn't look up.

Anthony starts to settle back in his chair before wincing and sitting up
      straight again. He glances over at the stranger for a minute before 
      turning his attention to the windows.

Salem casts an eye over the room and it's collection of dour and gloomy people.
      Unfortunately, _he's_ not the man to lighten the mood.

Cat reaches into the cupboard for cereal and produces Cheerios. Okay, not his
      favorite, but well. He pours some into the bowl, pours milk on top, puts 
      things away. General kitcheny motions, general kitcheny noises. He keeps 
      pausing in the middle of things though, hoping to hear a word or two of 
      whatever is being talked about in the parlor.

Cutter says "I think Megan was part of a Cleansing Rite, long long ago in the
      wayback times, but I haven't been able to hunt her out yet. Of course, 
      once I do, I can't guarantee she'll have any interest in talking to me 
      anyhow."

Rina frowns over to him. "Megan? Oh, is that the chick who judged that crap
      with the Gnawers and their spawn?"

Cutter nods and looks around the room. "Yeah. The Sept Alpha. She disappeared
      for a while too, I'd heard to Boston, but she was here before I was."

Bemusement comes to Rina's expression. "Fuck, she's /Alpha/ now?" She glances
      to Salem, and then scowls toward the window. "Goddamn Fianna."

Cat, in his concentration of listening to the other conversation, drops his
      spoon and it clatters loudly on the linoleum. Damn. He winces and picks 
      it up, dropping it in the sink.

Rina's head whips about to direct a dark stare at the kitchen. "Joshua?" she
      calls out.

Anthony stands up slowly, zipping up his jacket. "I'll check it out," he says
      to Rina, heading towards the kitchen.

Cutter frowns and directs a suspicious glare toward the kitchen, hand sliding
      toward his jacket pocket.

Rina rolls to her feet. "He's not supposed to be down here..." She follows as
      far as the entry hall, curious.

Anthony and the theurge cub meet head on, the latter facing the stranger with
      wide, questioning eyes and a bowl of cereal held carefully in his hands. 
      "Sorry, not Joshua," Cat says simply.

Anthony pauses. "It's not Joshua," he repeats back to Rina. "It's ... uh,
      someone else." He scratches his head distractedly for a minute.

Cutter says "Somebody tangible and substantial?"

"Yes," Cat answers with a hint of irritation- and with his chin just a little
      higher he walks around Anthony, pausing next to the doorway of the 
      parlor, glancing inside at Rina, Salem, and Cutter. He tries a small 
      smile on at each at them, starting with Rina...it dies somewhere around 
      Salem and never makes it to Cutter.

Rina grins. "Hey, paisan'," she says to the boy, warmly. She returns to her end
      of the couch, a little more cheerful.

Anthony follows Cat back to the parlor. "I dunno, I wouldn't call him
      'substantial'," he jokes, smiling dimly, though the smile dies a horrible 
      death moments later.

Rina glances to the bowl of cereal, and frowns slightly. "You sure y'don't want
      somethin' hot? There's ziti in the freezer..."

If the cub hears (or understands) the remark, he ignores Athony completely. Cat
      cants his head, considering ziti; then he shrugs one shoulder and smiles 
      a little more brightly this time at the kinswoman. "S'already made," he 
      mumbles, padding over towards her and sitting cross-legged at her feet. 
      He starts at the cereal, stealing a glance at Salem with his spoon in 
      mouth.

Cutter mumbles "So, what, no fuckin' ziti?" under his breath.

Rina shoots Cutter a narrow-eyed look. "Oh, very fuckin' funny," she says
      dryly. Then her expression darkens, and she asks, "How's Kostya?"

Salem finishes prowling around the room and comes to a halt somewhere near the
      doorway, where he leans against the wall with his hands in his pockets, 
      expression tight-lipped and pensive.

Cutter crouches down near Rina's feet, sitting on his heels. "He's still taking
      breath. Beyond that, I'm not sure. Still not insectoid though. Really 
      really need to find somebody who can take care of him."

Anthony sighs and retreats to his chair, drumming his fingers on his knees. He
      debates going and claiming that ziti for himself, but decides he really 
      didn't feel like eating.

Rina's jaw tightens. "Fuck. If Megan doesn't know it, we might be screwed.
      Unless... you go to the Gnawers. *I* can't."

Cutter nods. "Who?" he asks, simply and quickly.

Rina glances away from Salem. "Renee, or Raul... go to the zoo and ask." She
      looks to Cutter, again, her expression dark and preoccupied. "You wanna 
      go downstairs and have a chat with this Russian?"

Cat, curious as his namesake, keeps eating his cereal.

Cutter says "Can could. Will we be able to understand him once he starts
      talking? And what do we want to know from him?"

Salem's gaze shifts from Rina and Cutter, moving over toward Cat and his
      Cheerios. His eyes narrow slightly.

Rina lets out a breath. "I don't fucking know. Who sent him. Where they live,
      so I can fucking bury them."

Cutter says "Gotcha. I'll need a few household supplies." He moves toward the
      kitchen. "I'll go shopping to replace anything I need."

The cub blinks, chewing his cereal and meeting Salem's gaze questioningly.

Salem stiffens, his eye moving away from Cat to focus on the Shadow Lord's
      retreating back. His jaw clenches; abruptly, he pushes away from the wall 
      and stalks off to the hall closet near the front door.

Rina's jaw tightens, and she gets up, taking off her jacket and leaving it on
      the couch. She carefully skirts around Cat. "Jack, wait. Please?"

Salem stops short near the closet door and waits for her to catch up with him.
      He drums his fingers against the wall impatiently.

Rina steps across to him quickly, talking in a lowered, urgent voice. "Look,
      I'd move him to the fallout shelter, only we have a sick /spy/ there, 
      okay? And if it's not aright with you for Cutter to do it, then /I'll/ 
      fucking do it, it's just that he's *better* than me. I just want it 
      /over/ with, and the only person who could translate is laid up, so we'll 
      hafta try without the luxury of a translator."

Cutter rummages in the kitchen, making kitcheny noises.

Cat stays where he is, finishing the last of his cereal and every so often
      giving Anthony glares.

Salem is nodding -- again, impatiently -- before Rina's even done and turns
      away again to yank open the closet. By the time she's done he's pulled 
      out his coat and is shrugging into it.

"Christ, Jack--" Hoarse desperation touches Rina's voice, her expression. "What
      do you want me to /do/? It's gotta be done, and someone's gotta do it, 
      and there isn't anyone else to do it, because *John* is *dead*!" Her tone 
      of voice rises to a tearful pitch at the end, rather more audible--and 
      then she hears the words, and a pall comes over her face as the emotion 
      fades to something stark and sickened. She lowers her eyes, blinking back 
      tears, both hands suddenly clenched tight at her sides.

Rina pages: Like she just said something awful and forbidden, and she's
      horrified at herself for saying it. Accepting it. Speaking of the taboo.
Rina pages: Because We Don't Talk About That.

The cub hears -that-. He creeps to the doorway, but doesn't quite cross it,
      isn't visible from the hallway. He just stands and listens.

Salem pauses to look at her for several long heartbeats, still glowering a
      little. Then he forces himself to cross the distance between them, and he 
      puts his hand under her jaw to tilt her face up towards his.

Rina pages: OMG, right now he is dad. Or big brother, at least. She thinks he's
      angry/disapproving, and she needs his approval.

She looks up at him, desperate and hopeless and blinking back tears--unable,
      for the moment, to speak.

Cutter has stopped making kitcheny noises but fails to reappear.

Rina pages: It's like Eowyn's 'daddy?' look. :>
You paged Rina with '...when mostly he's just frustrated with himself, feeling
      impotent and useless and just... angry at everything. (Eowyn?)'.
You paged Rina with 'How short/long's her hair these days?'.
Rina pages: Needs cutting. Getting anime shaggy again.

Salem releases her jaw and brushes overlong bangs away from her forehead, then
      forces a smile, thin-lipped and faint. "Do what you need to," he mutters 
      to her; the smile becomes a bit more forced as the comic whine of the 
      Jackal detracts from the solemnity of the moment. His hand drops away, 
      and he gestures her in the vague direction of the kitchen.

Rina swallows, and nods minutely. "Watch your back," she says hoarsely. Then
      she turns and heads for the kitchen, a hand passed over her eyes for a 
      moment.

Salem watches her go, his smile vanishing and his expression bleak. Then he
      finishes bundling up for the weather and leaves the mansion. The door 
      slams shut behind him.


[Later...]


Rina pages: Yeah, maybe an hour to two hours after he left.

Rina stands very still in the big hall, both hands clenched at her sides. "I
      hafta go deal with a body," she says in a low voice. "You just do 
      whatever you want. Leave, sulk, whatever."

You paged Renate with 'Scene: front hall of the Dominion, yesno?'.
Renate pages: Yeah. Rina has her back to the fron of the house, like she is
      headed back to the tower. And she's about to keep goping that way.

Cutter stops. He starts to shed his clothes, draping them over the chair he
      just kicked. "Right. Work."

"Yeah," she says dryly. "If y' scared to go back down there, don't worry about
      it." She turns crisply on a heel and walks into the kitchen, dropping to 
      a crouch in front of the sink and getting out the latex gloves.

The front door bangs opens abruptly, admitting a shock of cold air and a rather
      chilled former Ronin.

Cutter folds his trousers carefully. "Hell yes I'm scared. They may be your
      friends, but it looks like they may not be as jolly about me." He perches 
      his hat on one corner of the chair.

Renate pages to the room: Cutter still in the parlor, or where?
Cutter pages to the room: Yeah. In boxers and t-shirt.

Rina comes out of the kitchen and then runs, a missile targeting Salem, hitting
      him right in the chest and clinging hard.

Renate pages to the room: DADDY!!!!!
Renate pages to the room: OH DADDY IT WAS AWFUL!!!!
From afar, to the room, Renate radiates emotional need like unto a crying black
      hole.

Salem grunts -- squeaks, really -- as Rina slams into him. Still chilly from
      his walk outside, he stands stiffly for a moment, then hugs her back in a 
      tense, controlled kind of way.

Cutter steps carefully to the side as Rina races through. Then he pads to the
      basement door and goes down the stairs.

Renate backs off, wiping the back of a hand across her eyes. Her gaze is
      lowered, as she says, "One of the ghosts killed him. The guy. We gotta 
      deal with the--you know." She gives him a swift, tear-streaked look and 
      then turns to follow Cutter.

Salem's eyes widen at the news. Teeth bared, he quickly shrugs out of his coat
      and hat and follows Rina.

In the basement, Cutter is carefully removing the knife from the corpse, his
      handy brown paper bag next to him.

Rina sheds jacket and shirt along the way, left in a sports bra and the loose
      fatigues. Her boots come hammering down the stairs.

Salem arrives soon after Rina, though going more slowly. Upon arriving in the
      basement, he pauses to take stock of the scene.

Cutter starts using the paring knife to cut the duct tape and rope that binds
      Ivan to the chair. He glances up as Rina comes down the stairs, but for 
      the most part his attention is on the stretch of bare wall over his 
      shoulder.

The prisoner is much as they left him, strapped to the chair. Cutter is
      removing a knife from his shoulder, and there is some blood--but not a 
      whole life's worth.

"River, or dumpster?" Rina glances over her shoulder, looking to Salem for the
      answer as she pulls on the latex gloves.

Salem pushes his hands into his pockets and watches Cutter pensively. He
      glances over at Rina's question then holds up one finger in answer.

Cutter would probably do bettter with a larger knife. But now that he's started
      he appears determined to finish the job. "I'd love to see the look on the 
      coroner's face when he finally gets hold of the body and discovers that 
      he's got a dead mobster who wasn't filled with bullets before he died."

"Option the first it is," Rina says grimly. "There's a rug upstairs we could
      use, I think... I'll need help, though."

Salem gives her a tight-lipped, humorless smile and thumps his chest once. Big
      dumb brute animal.

Without another word, Rina heads upstairs. The two Glasswalkers flop down the
      rolled-up rug with a heavy thump, and Rina cuts the tape binding it.

Cutter straightens and stretches, hefting the body in his arms as he shifts up
      into burly form. "A rock or two would not be seen amiss."

Salem jerks a thumb upstairs, then disappears upward. He returns some time
      later with a good-sized, but grimy, cinder block.

"You need help getting him up here?" Rina calls from the ground level.

Cutter drops the body onto the rug and rolls it up with the cinder block. "I
      think we're fine here," he growls as he experimentally hefts one end.

Rina nods, and looks over to Salem. "You want me to drive?"

Salem picks up the other end of the Russian River Burrito and nods to Rina.

"Where're your keys?" she asks the dour man.

Salem hesitates, then sets his end down in order to get his keys from his
      pocket and toss them over to Rina. There are only three on the ring, and 
      one's for the front door of the Dominion.

Rina catches them neatly, and leads the grim procession to the car. The body is
      soon disposed of, and the conspirators part ways, each heading in a 
      different direction.