It is currently 17:09 Pacific Time on Tue Feb 24 2004.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 50 degrees
      Fahrenheit (10 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the 
      south at 14 mph, with gusts up to 22 mph. The barometric pressure reading 
      is 29.77 and rising, and the relative humidity is 71 percent. The 
      dewpoint is 41 degrees Fahrenheit (5 degrees Celsius.)
Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (28% full).

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.

Bump, bumpbumpbump. Bump, bumpbumpbump. Cat's sitting on the last few steps of
      the stairs, tousled wet hair indicating he's fresh out of the shower. In 
      one hand he has two rulers taped together and a rubber-band strung 
      between; in the other, a little pink bouncy ball. The crude slingshot's 
      been sending the ball against the wall for the better part of an hour. 
      Bump, bumpbumbump- it comes flying off the wall to roll back at his feet.
Salem, coming in from the back of the house, follows the sound until he reaches
      the front entryway and the stairs. He gives Cat a bemused, frowning look. 
      "Bored?"
Cat grins, wet hair dangling in his eyes. Shaking his head, he raises the
      slingshot again and peers at his fingers carefully. "Coat closet door, 
      over the handle." He let's go, and the pink missile goes sailing...four 
      inches to the right of the door handle. He makes a face as the ball comes 
      innocently back. "Well, I was close," he amends.
Salem snorts. "Working on your aim. Right." He takes a spot nearby and leans
      against the bannister, eyeballing the cub. "Excited about going on your 
      Rite of Passage later this week?"
"Kinda..." The expression on his face is excitement trying to be hidden,
      worries trying to be heard. The ball disappears into his closed palm. 
      "Have you ever...-met- Emma, before?" Cat asks hesitantly. "She and some 
      man named Trevor were here before, but you were out."
Salem folds his arms across his chest. "I've met her, yes. Why?"
Cat's nose wrinkles. "She's...bossy. I guess she's okay..." He trails off,
      looks at his shoes, then back up as a thought comes to mind. "But that 
      man. He- he said he wanted to come in, but he wouldn't tell me who he was 
      and said I should mind my elders. And then he said 'rhya' -really- loud. 
      And then he got mad when I wouldn't let him in because you were gone. 
      There wasn't anyone in the house," he adds defensively, chin jutting out 
      a bit.
Salem's eyes narrow. "Really. I'll have to speak to him. How long ago was this?"
"Yes- two days ago," Cat thinks out loud, looking down at his shoes. After a
      moment he adds guiltily, "He said he was going to shoot me if I didn't 
      let him in... so I ran back into the house."
Salem's lip curls. "Shoot you. And this was, what? Out at the gate?"
The boy shakes his head. "Just outside the door. Emma called an' said she
      wanted to meet me before we went on the Rite, so I met her outside." Cat 
      looks up again, then scoots over on the step in case Salem decides he 
      wants a seat. "Then Trevor came up and, well." He makes a face. "Was...I 
      being rude? If he really is th' Master of the Rite, then won't I get in 
      trouble?"
Salem snorts. "Not if I can help it. You _shouldn't_ be letting in strangers.
      And he should understand and respect that." He scowls, getting that 'I 
      obviously need to beat on someone' look, though it's not directed at Cat 
      -- which becomes clear when he points out, "You did nothing wrong."
Cat lets slip one of his famously-proud-and-shy-to-be-so smiles and tries to
      hide it by examining the pink bouncy ball. "Kay," he replies happily. He 
      lets it dribble for a bounce or two next to his foot before looking up 
      again. "I haven't seen Miz Rina in awhile," he murmurs, a hint of concern 
      in his voice. "She's okay though, right?"
Salem sighs. "She's... fine, more or less." He looks down at the cub, his
      expression somber. "She has a lot of problems." Understatement of the 
      year.
The ball disappears back into the cave of his cupped hands. "More or less?" Cat
      repeats, no longer pretending disinterest. Wide eyes look for answers as 
      his mouth rattles off questions. "But...what happened? Did she get sick 
      again? Is she still having nightmares? Is she going out dancing still? 
      Did Cutter-rhya hurt her?"
Salem's mouth twitches. "She still goes dancing sometimes, and she's been
      seeing Charlie, which is good. But she got... quite unhappy when I told 
      her that a friend of ours had moved to Portland. It reminded her of John, 
      and..." He grimaces, shrugs helplessly. "You know how she is about John. 
      I don't think she'll ever really get over that."
"Oh..." Cat settles back into quiet thoughtfulness, eyeing the ball and Salem
      as though one of them wasn't being completely honest. "Yeah, I don't 
      think so either," he concludes softly. "But I think she smiles more now, 
      than she used to. I think so..." He blinks, and cants his head at the 
      elder. "You do."
Salem blinks. "Pardon?"
He gestures uselessly. "I remember when you came back an' Mister Smith'd died,"
      Cat reminds the Philodox. "You didn't smile a lot back then. You'd get 
      mad at me a lot more too." The cub has the audacity to grin- but just a 
      little. "But you smiled when we moved in to the Mansion, and you smiled 
      at Thanksgiving and Christmas and...well, a lot of things." His face 
      screws up as he tries to think of more specific examples. When he can't, 
      he just gives up. "Who moved away?"
Salem chuckles dryly at Cat's observation, but the question at the end has him
      bemused again. "...Why do you ask that?"
Cat considers that. Why did he ask, anyway? "I guess I just wonder who could
      make her so sad by leaving," he replies carefully. "An' why'd they leave, 
      if they were so important to her. 'Cause she'd be important to them too, 
      right?" He shrugs his shoulders, then smiles faintly. "She'd be pretty 
      mad if I didn't come back from my Rite, huh."
Salem snorts. "Probably. No... the person who moved away was Drew, another
      kinswoman who was friends with Rina and John. But then..." He hesitates a 
      moment, then simply lays it out for the boy. "John cheated on Rina with 
      Drew, and Drew got pregnant and had a baby. It was all in secret, and 
      Rina didn't find out until after John was dead."
Cat...blinks. And blinks again. "Kinda...like how..." He's struggling with
      this, as anything less than complete fidelity doesn't fit into the world 
      as he sees it. "Is that like how the Gnawers had the metis cub in secret? 
      It's just as bad?" He thinks again for a moment, eyes getting wide. 
      "S'even though they were married, the baby isn't...-oh-."
Salem smiles darkly. "Yes. And, to add to that, John always got very upset with
      Rina when she seemed to be flirting with other people. This despite the 
      fact that he cheated on her. And Rina blames herself for that, too." He 
      exhales a breath. "Drew blames herself as well, and when John died lost 
      not only the father of her son but _her_ mate as well... since she lived 
      with Chaser-Never-Rests." He shakes his head. "Too many ghosts. She's 
      taken her children to Portland. They'll have a better life there."
Cat listens with wide eyes, and then sets his chin in his hands, the ball
      pressing into the hollow of his cheek. "It's not easy for Garou or Kin to 
      have families, is it?" he says finally. There's something about the way 
      he says it, too; sadly. "Is that why Miz Rina gets a funny look on her 
      face when I call her Mom?"
Salem rubs the side of his neck and nods. "Most likely." His expression is wry.
He glances sideways at the Elder. "Should I stop calling her that?" he asks
      meekly.
Salem folds his arms again. "I suggest you ask _her_ that."
Cat makes a face. "What if she says no?" His head slides down his hands and
      rests horizontally on his knees, blue eyes continuing to stare balefully 
      at Salem from their new angle. "...I like thinking she's my mom."
"What if it hurts her feelings?" Salem counters, quietly. "You wouldn't like to
      call her something that makes her sad, would you?"
He blinks, and definitely looks as though the Philodox just stole his favorite
      toy. "...No," he admits finally, with great reluctance. "I don't want to 
      make her sad again. I'll ask her." He chews his lower lip and fidgets 
      with the laces of his Keds, pulling on them and stretching the threads 
      out till they're misshapen. "If she says no," Cat starts slowly, "Does 
      that mean I don't get a mom...ever?"
Salem purses his lips. "In a week or so, you'll be an adult, Cat. Time to stand
      on your own two feet, not cling to apron-strings."
Cat shrugs one shoulder lightly. "I know...I don't mean to sound like a little
      kid. It's not that, it's-" He pauses, trying to find better words. 
      "Cath'rin used to say she couldn't wait to get Rited," he murmurs. "She'd 
      say 'My mom's gonna be so proud, and then we'll pack and I'll be like 
      y'sister for real...'" He trails off, looking slightly embarrassed. With 
      a surge of machoism, he adds, "I don't -need- a mom. Lots've people don't 
      have 'em, and they do just fine."
Salem looks wry again. "Knowing Rina, she'll let you call her 'Mom'... but it
      would still be good of you to ask her and make sure."
"Where's Catherine been?" Cat asks, trying to stay in his vein of being too old
      for tears and apron-strings; although Salem might see the slight nod of 
      his head to the last remark. "I asked Emma if she'd seen her lately, and 
      she said she hadn't. Did she get Rited already?"
Salem shrugs faintly. "Disappeared when Alicia sent her on her Rite of Passage."
Cat sits upright. "...What?"
Salem cocks his head. He and Cat are by the stairs, the cub sitting on the
      bottom step and Salem leaning on the bannister with his arms folded. "I'm 
      surprised you hadn't heard."
Anthony slips in through the front door, shutting it behind him carefully
      before stripping off his jacket and starting to head towards the parlor.
Cat's got a pink bouncy ball in his hands, fingers laced together and forming a
      tight cage around the object. "But she's..." He pauses when Anthony 
      enter, then finishes in a softer, less panicked voice, "She's coming 
      back, isn't she? Has she been gone for a very long time?"
"Months," Salem tells Cat, dourly, then glances over toward Anthony. "Evening,
      Tony."
Anthony stops for a moment, glancing back at Salem, then turns to face the
      staircase. "Hey," he says casually, heading towards the two on the steps.
Cat stares at Anthony like he doesn't recognize the cliath, and looks back at
      Salem again. "Months?" he repeats weakly, as he clings to optimistic 
      threads. "Was she on a really long Rite? She'll come back though, won't 
      she?"
Salem grimaces a bit. "I have no idea," he says to Cat, his voice edging toward
      impatience. "I'd ask Alicia, if I were you."
Anthony walks up to the staircase and leans against the bannister, draping his
      jacket over it and resting his arms on it. "So ... what's going on?"
A key rattles in the lock; a moment later Nat comes in, shoulder leading the
      way. As usual in this mild weather the Galliard's coat is worn, but left 
      unzipped. A short struggle with the key and lock, and the door clicks 
      closed behind her, the woman heading for the staircase.
There's a cub on the staircase, and an Elder and a cliath leaning against it.
      Cat grasps the ball very, very tightly, and just mumbles "Okay," back at 
      Salem, before observing his shoes sullenly. There's also a crude 
      slingshot (two rulers taped together) on the floor next to the boy's feet.
Salem gives the arriving Galliard a smile, then cocks his head, hearing a ring
      from the direction of his office. He excuses himself and heads that way.