It is currently 17:45 Pacific Time on Wed Feb 25 2004. Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 44 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from the north at 6 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 29.38 and falling, and the relative humidity is 96 percent. The dewpoint is 43 degrees Fahrenheit (6 degrees Celsius.) Currently the moon is in the waxing Crescent Moon phase (35% full). Harbor Park -- Fountain Situated in the center of a large, open meadow is a clustering of six trees, a flower bed, a few steel-and-wood benches set firmly into concrete, and a flagstone courtyard that is dominated by a large fountain. The fountain is a wide circular pool of water some fifty feet across and about five feet deep in most places. The sculpture in the center is a mix of old and new, traditional and modern: eight concrete-and-stainless-steel slabs about six feet high are set in a rough Stonehenge-like circle around the center of the fountain. Water flows from their tops, cascading in bright mesmerizing sheets to the pool below. Rising above the steel circle is a large marble statue of the Water Bearer, an androgynous figure draped in robes of flowing water. It bears a large jug carved with various Greek symbols, from which pours a seething torrent of water into the pool at its feet. Cars on the nearby street have an excellent view of the park as do any residents of the tall buildings which line the waterfront. 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. Recent construction work is creating an earthen berm several feet high all along the borders of the park in all directions. Salem can be seen sitting on a bench not far from the fountain and facing it, his tall figure somewhat slouched within the big black coat. The Glass Walker is smoking a filterless cigarette, his eyes hidden behind dark lenses despite the lateness of the hour. Signe trudges into the Park. Whether she knew Salem was there or it's a happy accident, when she sees him on the bench she immediately heads in that direction. "Hey boss," she says, though she doesn't sit down next to him. she prefers to remain standing a bit of a ways off. Salem glances over at the Get, then sits up a bit and grunts, "Evening, Signe. What's new?" "Did a favor for one of the Gnawers," Signe says. "Took the cubs along with. I know I told you I might, but wanted to let you know they did pretty well. One of them was a vampire, I think." Salem takes a deep drag off the cigarette, crushes it out, and expertly arrows the butt toward a nearby wastecan. "What were the others?" Signe shrugs under her jacket. "Human, as far as I could tell. Drug dealers. Losers. Nothing we couldn't handle. But, at least, the kids look like they're starting to fight together." Salem folds his arms across his chest. "That's good. About time, anyway. You've got that place picked for for their test this weekend, right?" Signe nods confidently. "Yeah, I'm on top of it. But, speaking of this weekend. I wouldn't mind knowing the Rite, myself. If you're willing, I mean?" Salem arches an eyebrow in surprise, then grunts. "Surprised you don't know it already. Of course." "Yeah," Signe says with a slight, disgruntled sigh. "There's a lot I've slacked off on and let slide. Thinking maybe now's the time to stop that." A pause, and at Salem's agreement, she nods. "Thanks. A lot." Salem's lips twitch into a thin, humorless smile. "It'll take a couple of weeks. Hmn. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to do the rite to send the cubs off, or if you wanted me to do it." Signe grimaces. "Well, guess we know the answer to that now, eh? But, at least we can use it as a lesson." Finally, she decides to come a little closer, settling on the opposite end of the bench from Salem. Her legs stretch out in front of her, and although she doesn't look to be in trouble, the veteran warrior that the Walker elder is would notice the stiffness in her torso. She's at least slightly wounded. "I've seen it done, of course. Lots of times. Can't be that hard to learn." Salem shakes his head. "The hardest part is that mixture that puts them into a vision-trance, or whatever you want to call it." His mouth twists in a sour kind of way. "Word of advice. If at all possible, never learn a ritual from a Theurge." Signe's teeth clamp down in a grimace. "That I already know," she says offhandedly, shrugging. She's not what most would call pretty. Terms like delicate and petite would never be attributed to her, and come to think of it, neither would lady-like. She looks to be in her late twenties, standing roughly between 5'10" and 6'. Her powerful frame carries a full 175 pounds, all of it undoubtedly muscle. Shoulder length black hair hangs straight, not set in any particular style. She wears no makeup, having neither the time nor the care to put any effort into such things, though she does sport several earrings and tattoos. Her eyes are a dark, unremarkable brown that manage to look angry a good deal of the time, whether she is or not. If there is a traditionally attractive aspect to her at all, it would be her finely crafted cheekbones and elegant jaw-line. They give her an air of nobility otherwise lost in her rough and uncompromising nature. She's dressed in old, well worn jeans. Dirty, chocolate brown work boots catch the bottom edges, and a white t-shirt clings to her well-toned frame. A creased black leather jacket hangs loosely over her shoulders. It's at least two sizes too big for her. The Walker is silent for a moment, broodingly so, then asks, "Heard Joshua got his ass kicked the other day." "In the caern?" Signe asks, looking up. Her frown deepens, and she nods. "Yeah. He and the Wendigo mule got into it. She...got lucky." This is Signe's explanation, one that she stands by, although the entire subject seems to irritate her. Salem grimaces, his nose wrinkling. "How'd he react to the defeat?" Signe lets out a long drawn breath in a huff. "He didn't. She did such a good job on him, I had to carry him to the farmhouse to get some healing. I made sure he was ok, but I was gone before he actually came around. Saw him later. He's...pissed. As anyone would be, I suppose." Salem's eyes narrow. "What is Jacinta teaching him? She _is_ still teaching him, isn't she?" Signe nodnods. "I've seen them," she says, defensively. After all, the Get ahroun's taught him some, too. "As far as I can tell it's a combination of bad luck, stamina, and Josh's own stubborn pride. Sometimes he rushes in when he should be more sure of /how/ he's rushing in, and why." "Think he'll survive the Rite?" Salem's question is blunt, his voice flat; he seems to be staring at the fountain. "After what I saw today?" Signe asks, cocking her head thoughtfully. "Yeah, as long as he paces himself. He should survive. I gotta admit that, before, I was thinking it might be best if he failed. Didn't seem to have what it took to do what we do. But, now, I'm pulling for him. He's got that underdog thing going for him. And he seems to me, for all his faults, like he wants it now." Salem grunts, the sound noncommital, and nods. "We do need the warriors," he mutters, and then seems apt to lapse into a pensive silent. Signe lets that silence linger between them for a while, simply looking out and around at the park, the fountain. Eventually, she asks, "What the hell's the story with Cat?" Salem cocks his head and peers at her sidelong. "How do you mean?" Signe explains, shrugging vaguely first. "I dunno. when we went to take care of this 'problem' last night, he seemed squeamish about killing. But, once we got into it, he was like a little rabid chihuahua." Salem's eyebrows rise over the frames of his sunglasses, and for the first time tonight he actually looks rather pleased. "When we first broad him in, he'd fall over if you yelled at him. Had to force him to throw a punch at me." Signe looks over at Salem, and at first her expression is comical. "Damn Walkers," she curses, half-kidding. "Bunch of fruitcakes, the whole lot of you." But, then she grins. "You'da been proud of him tonight," she says, with a nod. "I mean, he wasn't some legendary hero or anything, but when Josh got between him and his kill, he snapped back like a starving puppy protecting a big mac." The Get starts laughing. "Screaming ~Mine!~ It was pretty cool." Salem smiles faintly. "Good boy." He shifts his weight. "There's a lot more to Cat than first impressions give. He _has_ strength... it just doesn't often show. And, if you haven't noticed, he has an innocent face." He utters a short, dry 'heh'. Signe glances over at Salem, issuing a snort of her own. "It's always the cute little ones that turn out to be the nastiest fuckers," she comments. "Indeed." Salem glances skyward, squinting at the barely-seen moon. "I'd better get back to the Dominion. Make sure nobody's burned it down." He leans forward, rising to his feet in a smooth, easy motion. Signe lifts her chin, offering the Walker silent gesture of farewell. "I'll be by later, maybe. Catch up on other things," she adds, getting up herself to head in the opposite direction. Salem gives the Get a thin, tight smile. "Be seeing you," he says with a nod, and then heads off.