It is currently 19:24 Pacific Time on Sun Feb 22 2004. Currently in Saint Claire, it is mostly cloudy. The temperature is 50 degrees Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius). The wind is calm today. The barometric pressure reading is 29.68 and rising, and the relative humidity is 68 percent. The dewpoint is 40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius.) Currently the moon is in the waxing No Moon phase (15% full). Cockroach Mansion -- Elder's Office Salem's office is an extension of the same elegant display of wealth which characterizes the rest of the mansion. Most noticeable, from the doorway in the southern wall, is the large black-veined white marble fireplace taking up half of the northern part of the room, contrasting sharply with the ebony-paneled walls. A rug of forest green carpets the floor from wall to wall, while red velvet frames the wall of windows to the west. The other decor is typical of the private office of a wealthy, old-world businessmen, from the ponderous mahogany desk along the eastern wall and the equally heavy chairs set before them, to the brass and glass chandelier dangling from the ceiling. A reproduction of Van Gogh's _Starry Night_ hangs above the fireplace, and the bookshelves behind the desk are, so far, nearly empty. A door at the far end of the office leads into an adjoining bedroom and bathroom. This door is usually kept closed. Natalie pushes the door open, pokes her head inside. "You busy?" she asks, without truly looking to see if the Elder is. When the Galliard enters, Salem's sitting behind the massive, scarred mahogany desk, the laptop closed and set to one side. The fire's cracking merrily in the fireplace, something of a contrast to the Elder's rather somber-looking mood. "Not really," he says blandly. He nods toward one of the chairs in front of the desk. "Have a seat." Nat's an inch or two over average height for a woman, perhaps 5'7" or 5'8". She's built rather reminscent of a brick, with a square face and jaw, and broad shoulders that have no need of padding. Nondescript brownish hair is only a few inches long, and the ten-dollar cut makes her face look even wider. Blue-green eyes are widely set under a pair of thickly stroked eyebrows; her nose and lips are proportionately large. She wouldn't catch any eyes if it weren't for the eerie way she has of staring, or the suggestion of prior and pending fist-fights in the small scars pocked across her face and hands. Her accent is flat Midwestern unobtrusive, her age roughly twenty. Her clothes are pure practicality: blue jeans faded at knee and thigh, navy sweatshirt advertising the 'Half-Time Bar', and nondescript once-white sneakers. She usually has a battered leather bomber jacket slung over a shoulder if it isn't being worn. Natalie nods as she slips in, shutting the door carefully behind her so the only sound is a soft 'click' as it latches. "Thanks. I, um... bunch of stuff, really. To talk to you about." She slips into the offered chair, looking terribly out of place in her grubby casual clothes. That's all right, because the Elder's not dressed terribly formally himself, though all she can see at the moment is the black long-sleeved t-shirt. Salem folds his hands together on the desk in front of him and regards her with a neutral expression. "All right..." "Right." Nat runs a hand through her hair twice, perhaps collecting her thoughts. "All right. Bunch of stuff, like I said. I went ahead and ordered that greenhouse we were talking about. I figure it'll get here early next week, maybe Friday of this. Second, I'd like to show Megan or someone else who knows about Gifts that thing Jeremy showed me. 'Ve you seen it? The invisible jumping guy? Jer's convinced it's six-million-dollar man territory, but I dunno." Salem smiles faintly at news of the greenhouse, but it fades as Natalie goes on. He considers a moment before nodding. "Yes. I've seen it. The jumping... some lupus have a Gift that does that. I suppose being able to withstand bullets isn't all that far-fetched, either, though I don't know..." He trails off, eyes suddenly narrowing. "I've seen vampires that tough, but even _we're_ not usually _that_ tough. And being able to attack while invisible..." He shakes his head. "I don't know. But, yes, go ahead." Natalie nods her acceptance. "All right. Like I said, I'm not convinced this is Bionic Man territory, even if Jeremy is. What if it's a fetish - several fetishes - or something? Or..." She brushes away further hypothesizing with an impatient hand. "Anyway. Also, I've been thinking about Katrine. Are you still certain she should be out at the farm?" Salem grunts. "It was Jeremy's idea. And it's done her some good, since I've heard she's _talking_ to people now." He considers, eyes narrowing slightly. "How long has she been out there?" "Jeremy said he took her out there... hmn, couple of weeks ago?" Nat thinks on that for a second, shrugs. "Anyway, if I'm going to be her, if I'm supposed to be her role model, it'd be easier for me if she were -here-. But I don't want to just go dragging her around without, well, without discussing it." Salem's mismatched eyes get a bit of a gleam. The good one, anyway. He smiles a bit, and it seems that she just said something very Right. "Go ahead and bring her back home, then. Do you have a lesson plan in mind?" Natalie has to shake her head, and doesn't look especially pleased that she is. "Not really. I know she needs Umbral training, but there's no way /that's/ happening until March. She seemed - what little she talked to me - to know why. I'll want to sound her out, see what she still needs. Probably have her help me do some of the scut work with the greenhouse as well. Oh! That reminds me. I haven't asked about the official word on shifting here. Anything besides 'not where you can be seen, you idiot'?" "That's pretty much the core of it," Salem says. "As for her lessons... concentrate on the basics. Tribe, auspice, how to fight, what we're about. That kind of thing. How good are you with a gun?" Natalie snorts derisively; at herself, it turns out. "I've seen 'em on TV. Mom and Pop never allowed them in the house. I've been shot, just never done any shooting." Salem hrmphs. "Something for both of you to work on, since it's a useful skill. Rina and Jeremy are the ones to see. Myself..." He shrugs faintly. "I have some practice, but I'm no crack shot. Especially not since this." He gestures toward the scarred mess of the left side of his face and the blind white eye. The Galliard inclines her head sympathetically. "Couple other things, if I'm not being no... too nosy?" Salem steeples his fingers, his eyes narrowing very subtly. "Go on." Natalie plunges onward; if she's noticed his eyes narrowing she's not letting on. "The other night Joshua said something about cubs Riting before the next Moot, or two Moots, or something. What's that about?" Salem grunts. "Megan's idea. Thing is, we have a lot of cubs currently who have been around a long time. Cat's the worst example, though frankly he needed it. Basically, those cubs who have been around since before the last moot need to be Rited before the next one. To be honest, I don't count Katrine in that category... but I _would_ like to see her Rited as soon as it's feasable." Natalie says "I'll do what I can. That include the Rite itself, or just getting them to it? Reason I ask," she explains, "Is 'cause my own took, hmn, about four months. But anyway. The other thing's Rite-related too. You going to need any help with Josh and Cat? He said you told him 'end of the month', and that's coming up pretty quick here." "They're as ready for it as they'll ever be," Salem replies. "Concentrate on Katrine. The time limit is just getting them _to_ the Rite." "That works for me." And if it didn't? "Lemme think if there's anything else. Greenhouse, Mega, Katrine... oh! Before I go pester Megan, what do /you/ think about that guy in the video? You think he's human plus, like Jeremy does? Me, I don't see how he can be, but. I'm not exactly, as Jer'd be the first to point out, up on my technological advances." Salem shakes his head. "Vampire, maybe. Or fomor." He frowns. "There's a Shadow Lord named Konstantin who I told, some time ago, to ooze into the Russian organization to see what he could find. Ended up tainted, the idiot, but he got cleansed. He might know something." "Konstantin, right." A thought strikes her, her head tilts. "Tainted? By what? And are there lots of vampires in St. Claire that it'd be a worry?" "Wyrmtaint," Salem replies sourly. "Which fits with our theory that _some_ part of this mob is following the Wyrm, even if they don't call it that or even know what it is. And why I'm honestly thinking our Invisible Man is more likely a fomor than a vampire. We don't, fortunately, have many of the latter in town." Jeremy pages to Salem and Natalie: You can hear Jer's voice call out. "Loooosie, Ah'm hoooome." In a horrible Ricky impersonation. One of Nat's hands opens in a 'well, duh' gesture, but she doesn't say it aloud. Instead she clarifies, "I was thinking about more details than just Wyrmtaint. Like if he drank something, or saw something, or got attacked by something. Eh. I'm sure Jeremy'll be happy to give me his number. Do we have any idea how many of these Russians there are in town?" Salem's head cocks as the sound of Jeremy's awful Ricky Ricardo impersonation drifts through the closed door, and he pulls a bit of a face. "Rina'd know better how many there are. A sizeable enough number to control things. More than we have on _our_ side, anyway." He leans back, rubs a hand over his extremely short black hair. "And I didn't hear _how_ Konstantin got tainted. Maybe you can ask him yourself." Natalie frowns at Salem's expression. "I was planning on it," she says, sounding a bit wounded. "Speaking of, should I find another room? It's nice of her to lend me hers and all, but it'd be nicer for her not to have company in it." "Rina doesn't particularly like staying here," is all Salem really has to say on the subject, and his tone is quite bland. "But it's entirely up to you." Natalie says "I noticed, since I've only ever met her the once. I'll see about one of the rooms down the hall, maybe." The Galliard drops her head to stretch her nack and back, then squints up at him. "Well, anything you particularly need from -me-? Seems whenever I'm around you're not, and vice versa. You got a preferred method of contacting you? Phone, mail, notes under the door?" Salem says, "Phone's fine. Leave voicemail if I don't answer. I check my e-mail fairly regularly, too. As for what I need from you..." His gaze is calculating, considering, cool, but the Philodox's thin lips curve into an almost-smile. "You're doing quite well on your own so far, it seems. Obviously, I approve of personal initiative." "Thanks. Jeremy kinda, um, pushed me. I wasn't sure if I was going to get slapped down or not, but he said..." Whatever Jeremy might have said is lost as Nat trails off, eyes gone thoughtful and confused. "Did I hear somebody come in earlier?" Salem grunts. "Think it was Jeremy." The Elder swivels his chair slightly, leaning over to pull back the curtain of the big window behind the desk. Not that there's much to see from a lighted room at night. "Why don't you go see if he's found out anything more from his bugs?" Natalie says "Ja wohl," as she stands - no saluting, though. "Well, if you /do/ think of something you want me to do, just yell. Or holler, or beller, or whatever. I'll see about talking to Katrine some time this week." She turns for the door, then pauses and turns back. "G'night." Salem glances back and gives the Galliard another of those faint smiles. It doesn't touch his eyes. "Good night."