-----------------------------------

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.

Obvious exits:

Tower Stairway Salem's Office Parlor Front Doors

Natalie trots down the steps from above, her hand trailing along the banister. She's humming - is it? Yes, it is - Skip To My Lou. In all, a nauseatingly cheerful scene.

Sitting downstairs in one of the chairs, typing away on a wide screen PowerBook is the Gothic resident of the tribe, Jeremy. His eyes are narrowed behind thin wired glasses, black and blonde splotched hair sprawling over his pale, delicate features. He is wearing nothing but black, chains, and dog collars wrapped tightly around his neck. The way he types, you would think he was angry at the world. Its fast, furious, and quite precise.

My Lou's skipping trails off as the woman hits the last step and notices the goth. There's a moment's silence as she studies him, her attitude shifting from bland cheer to something a bit more dominating as chin lifts and shoulders straighten. "Natalie Baker. Galliard, Cliath."

"Word up." Jeremy says without glancing up from his screen, his fingers continuing to rattle along the keyboard. He scrunches up his nose, then lets his right hand dart out to the side where a USB 10-key is sitting on a small table, firing off numbers swiftly as his left hand continues to type away, using the rest of the 100+ keys with a simple pair of fingers.

Jeremy:

Here stands a young man nearing the age of twenty-one, thin, pale, and not much to look at. When once he was a shy, mild mannered and ignored computer nerd who couldn't weigh much more then a hundred when wet, now stands the exact same person, yet, gothlike. The glasses on his face reveal the pair of blue eyes he bares. His black hair still sprawls out over his face, but no longer dipped in blonde about his bangs, just a solid darkness.

His clothing has changed dramatically as well, having abandoned the button down shirts and slacks, replacing it with baggy dark jeans, a solid black shirt that simply reads: "Chicks dig scrawny pale guys" A long, ankle length trenchcoat billows about his thin frame, nearly cloaking him like a cape. Upon his feet is a pair of heavy steel toed boots, those which travel halfway up his calf. Chains adorn his jeans, three hanging off his wallet, and two more simply embedded into the fabric, jingling and clanking as he walks. To finish off his ungodly apparel, there is a leather collar bound around his neck, with a small metal skull dangling from the end of a steel hoop.

Natalie comes down the last step with an aggressive one-two, there stopping. Jer's given a quick looking over from head to boots and back before demanding, "Who are you?"

"Give me a second." Jermey says, both hands working over his keyboard as if they were a life line. The glowing white apple taunts you from the middle of his metal laptop, winking in and out with a vibrating pulse.

That doesn't go over well, and if Jer were looking up he'd see it written on her face. But Nat holds her tongue and the peace anyway, save for her arms folding over her chest.

As if that would stop him, even if he did. Jeremy is a Goth with a mission. Upon finishing up with his typing. He takes a few seconds to scan the screen, using the touch pad to scroll up and down the windows, then nods his head sharply, a proud smile crossing over his face. "Ah. Good. Good...." With that, he begins to unplug everything carefully, then slowly closes the lid of the Titanium. Lifting his eyes up to her, he offers a smile in the face of anger. "Welcome to St. Claire's Natalie. Its a shame that I was unable to pick you up myself, but work here has my balls in a knot. I am Jeremy Winters, the Digital Wraith. Monkey Wrencher and kinfolk for the Glass Walkers. I work for the Don personally."

You can almost see the tension drain out of her as he speaks. By the time he gets to working for the Don she snorts and drops her arms. "Yeah - don't we all? You're Jeremy, huh? Not, uh, quite what I was expecting. Don't worry about it - Salem gave me pretty good directions here. I only got lost once."

"Let me guess, you were expecting someone wearing a pocket protector, has neatly combed hair, and dresses as if he belonged in advanced statistics?" Jermey says with a wry grin on his face. "Well, you'd be right. I used to dress like that, a few years ago. That was until shit hit the fan here and my life took some radical changes in all different directions. Such as my room mate and best friend blowing up when spiral dancers took out our original safe haven here in the city." He offers up a smile, putting his laptop in his bag, then extends a hand towards her. There are a few scars along his fingers and wrist, and metal bracelets dangling from his arm. "You eat yet?"

"I was expecting someone more like Rina," Nat admits, combing fingers through her hair. "Not... yeah. Um... I grabbed a bagle earlier, but I'm always up for more. And maybe a tour? Salem-rhya said he'd give me one last night, but then Rina came in and they got to talking. I've done a little poking upstairs, but nothing to write home about."

"Yah, when Rina comes over, may as well be invisible. She sure likes to talk.. an get shot at... an other things." Jermey shrugs his shoulders. "Despite the whole Goth thing, I'm pretty darn normal. I've been clued for about fourteen years now, lived in Portland for ten of them with my family, and I run jobs for the tribe as a whole." Jeremy rattles off. "C'mon, I got breakfast already made in the kitchen. Ya'know, like a good lil kin." He says teasingly over his shoulder as he makes his way down the hallway. "We're all family here, you'll realize. Salem treats the kin here kinda like equals, because we work our ass off. We all pull our weight in many ways. Unfortuantly, I'm the only real computer nerd we got in the Sept, so he relies on me a lot to cover up shit or dig up info that is needed."

"...Like the origins of this house?" She follows after obligingly enough, no hint left of the rabid-dog-on-short-leash attitude she was giving earlier. "They said there had been these... things."

"Ghosts of murdered people. Yes. So far I am deep in Dominion. I'm still trying to get the last bits of info. I've gotten records of previous lived people here, but nothing too far back. Seems like this place is an Urban Legend. Said some scary shit has gone down here, at least, word on the street is, but.. you know." Jeremy says as he motions to the pancakes and eggs on the table that is sitting beneath paper towels. "There you go."

Natalie nods appreciatively as she slides into a chair. "Nice. He can hack a computer and cook. So how come you're not married?" She grins impishly as she digs in, nodding at the taste of pancake. "How far back does the title go? I figured this place was built around what, 1890? One of those cattle baron places?"

"Around there actually." Jeremy says as he fishes around the fridge, bending over, chains dangling along his pants. "And I'm not married because everytime I date a Garou, they either cheat on me, go nuts on me, or disapear. Or... lie to me about having a Metis cub and end up getting yourself satired." There is a loud huff in his throat. "I'm dating someone now, kinda.. I don't know. She's scaring me tho' lately and I don't know who to talk to."

Natalie lets the recitation of woes just sort of slide off her, though she quirks a bemused eyebrow. "Cripes. Well, is this, um, latest fling Garou too?"

"Yah, something like that. Her name is Aubrey, Alpha of the Crescent Wing pack and Fianna Theurge." Jeremy says, taking out a bottle of juice, twisting the cap off. "I thought she an I could hang out an date as friends, next thing I know, she's telling me she's in love and shit, then she gets super clingy and I can't breathe around her."

"Uhn," is Nat's only comment for a few moments. Eating pancakes makes a lovely delaying action in lieu of sticking a foot in mouth. "So, um... what did you tell her? Or did you just squeak and tell her you couldn't breathe? Maybe beat on her a little to try and get her to let go?"

"Last night, she came over and met my room mate.. who is.. probably a 'stud' in the Fianna's eyes. He's a kin of her tribe.. hot, rich. I mean, the guy should be in the movies. And she just stared at him, then said.. Its a good thing he has a girlfriend." Jeremy says with a sigh. "And I asked.. Why? You wouldn't be able to stop yourself or something? An she bites her lip an looks away, an gets this guilty expression on her face. So I was like.. whatever.. an I went into my room to get some work done. I mean.. I can't believe she meant it. Next thing I know, she's banging on my door, sobbing, telling me I can't do this to her, that she needs to be with me, and she needs to be in a relationship or she can't feel good about herself, and this and that.. an I just got.. freaked. I told her that she needs to rely on herself to make herself happy and not others, and she got mad at me an left."

Some time during the recitation Natalie stops chewing and just listens, jaw dropped. "Uh-huh." Better apply yourself to your pancakes again, girl - that's safer. "You sure she's not a Silver Fang? 'Cause that sounds royally screwed up. Sounds to me like you'd be better off without her. She's got issues, and I don't mean of _Good Housekeeping_."

Jeremy shrugs his shoulders slightly, almost uncaringly as he stares down at the bottle in his hands. "I was with Renee for over a year. She was the Gnawer tribal Elder and Fostern. Even tho' she was a Gnawer, we fit well..." He trails off. "Found out she was hiding a Metis she popped out a month or so before she an I hooked up. She was fucking a pack mate. After the punishment Rite went down, she left the Sept. I went from that, straight into this.. an I think I shoulda just.. kept to myself, but she was hitting on me strong." He clears his throat. "An I was like... why not, ya'know?" Seems like he has a lot to get off his chest. Its been contained way too long. "Sorry for rambling." He finally admits. "I'm just.. tense."

Congratulations, Natalie has stopped eating twice in the last five minutes to stare. "...You sound tense. Look, Jeremy, you ever heard the term 'rebound'? How about 'Don't go there'?" She pauses, fork impaling the last bite of eggs. "Waitaminute - you were screwing a Bone Gnawer?" Her incredulous tone implies that this is one step up from twelve year olds.

"Yes. I was. Renee was hard working, she busted her ass off, and she earned Salem's respect." Jermey mentions with a tilt of his head. "She was the Alpha of her own pack, Fostern, was even Sept Alpha here for a short time when Salem left the city. He entrusted her with it." He rolls his shoulders back. "But she cared about me."

If Natalie's eyebrows went any higher she'd need to support them with skyhooks. The foreign Walker's quiet save for a few considering tongue-clicks. Finally she manages a nonconfrontational, "Hunh," followed a moment later by, "I see there's a lot of history around here."

Jeremy shrugs his shoulders. "I know what you are thinking.." He trails off. "But lets be honest.. we don't have Walker girls around here. Lee' is.. but so darn busy you'd forget what she looked like, and KC was dating my second room mate, Ebony, a Walker kin who got killed a few months ago in Seattle by vampires." His features soften a bit. "Two dead room mates in two years. The Sept makes fun of me, says I'm cursed."

Natalie says, "Well, you live in a haunted house, so the way I figure, it's all good." She pushes back her plate and chair with a nod. "So. What can you tell me about the rest of the Tribe around here? I know there's a Theurge, Josh, who's out on the bawn and going to Rite soon. There's you and Rina for Kin, Lee and KC for... Garou, I'm assuming? That it besides me and Salem? He was saying there weren't a lot of us."

Jeremy nods his head slowly. "There isn't a lot of us, we keep getting killed. Leala is a Ragabash, and a rich one. She bought the place for us. KC is a Half Moon and works at a Law firm with one of our kinfolk, Lianne. Rina is a kinfolk. I'm a kinfolk." He trails off some. "Josh and Katrine is our cubs. Kat is a Galliard and I recently took her to the farm to learn with the other cubs. She's smart, but very, very withdrawn and could use a friend in her life. She doesn't trust people. Josh is the full moon, and kinda nuts. I don't know whats up with him lately. There is also Anthony, a Ragabash and a real ditz. He was sent from New York cuz I guess he keeps fucking up an he needs fine tuning on his skills. He's really cool tho', just... unsure of himself."

Natalie listens intently, though with puzzlement after Josh is named. "Wait a minute. You said Josh was Ahroun? I thought Salem said he was Theurge. He told me last night that we - he had a Theurge cub on the bawn about ready to Rite, and then said it was Josh. So... what gives?"

"Nope, yer thinking of Cat. He's been in the Sept for a long time. Acts like a child tho'. He's like a five year old in a teen's body. I don't get him sometimes." Jeremy says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Nice kid, just.. I guess he grew up without a mom."

Jeremy adds. "There is Katrine and there is Cat. Katrine is with a K, Cat is how it sounds, with a C."

Natalie ruffles her hair, hard. "All right. So there's two cubs named 'Cat' and Josh? Theurge, Galliard, and Ahroun. And, um... Leala and Anthony are Ragabash, KC and Salem are Philodox. No Theurge or Ahroun besides the cubs?"

Jeremy shakes his head. "Unfortuantly No. John, Walks-Thin-Ice, our tribe leader, died on his Fostern challenge. He was our last Ahroun."

"Jeez. And me the only Galliard, assuming I stick around." She grabs her plate, stretches across the table to snap for his. "No wonder he seemed pleased."

Jeremy grins faintly. "Yes, well... that and you are a Cliath. You seem assertive enough, even though your introductions need some working on." He chuckles.

Natalie manages to look sheepish. "Yeah, well. It's a bad habit, I guess. I was usually beta in my old pack. Not good at coming up with plans, but pretty good at throwing my weight around. You gonna hand me that plate, or are you going to wash it yourself?"

Jeremy looks surprised. "I tend to do the dishes, but if you want to help, I"m not going to argue." He says, nudging his plate over towards you with a chuckle. "Well, I hope you do stay. You seem pretty cool, that and I'm sure Katrine needs a friend."

Natalie shrugs at the offer but takes his plate anyway. "Dishes don't bite. Anyway, it gives me time where I'm not wondering what the hell drugs my elder's on." She grins over her shoulder from the sink. "He wants me to build a greenhouse for my chiminage. A freaking greenhouse. Says he wants some plants around here."

"... Why? What is he going to do, bend over and smell the roses in the morning?" Jeremy blurts out with a laugh. "Well, alright, that'll be interesting. If you need help, I can get you blue prints and schematics off the web and get you some sources of income as well as contacts in buying the materials you may need."

Natalie lets water run, starts digging around for soap. "I do not know. Yeah, income might be nice. He didn't say if this whole thing was coming out of my pocket, or what. We didn't discuss size or materials either. There's some pretty decent kits out there - all you provide is the base and labor - but I need to look into building codes and stuff. Also might have to apply for my license out here in Washington."

"To build a green house? Pff... do a small one on the roof or some shit." Jeremy says, glancing upwards. "I got extension cords that can run electricity up there." Rolling his eyes upwards, he stares at the ceiling. "I'll get you a cell phone in a few days. I just gotta hit up my contact, an then bridge the blue tooth network into it."

Natalie, her hands immersed in soapy water, taps her side with an elbow. Hanging off her belt? A cell phone. "Got one, thanks. And thanks for the suggestions, but if I'm gonna do this, I'll do it right. With the way that roof slopes, the only thing able to water the flowers would be a goat, and don't get me started on moss. I'll talk to Salem-rhya and see what he wants. Worst case scenario, I figure he'll want me to make an addition to the back of the house, or something." She peers over a shoulder. "Blue tooth how much?"

Squinting his eyes, Jeremy leans over to peer at her cell phone. "I'm using Ericson phones for the tribe, because what it does, is sends out a blue tooth signal which I can firewall myself personally. Every thirty seconds, a password changes that is localized in this house. This password is the login for the network security protocols in the mansion. This has the hidden drives that can access the GWNET, and also important tribal information that is tucked away. I don't want the wrong people getting it. Once you ping the password in, you become registered and your useage in the network is logged." He explains. "Your phone won't do. Too old, can't carry a blue tooth on it. Sides, you'll like the phone I'm ganna hook ya up with. Got a camera built into it, color TFT screen, all that good shit. Fully compatible with pocket palms and apples an whatever."

Natalie started out washing plates, sure enough, but by the end of this little... homily she's stopped to stare, mouth hanging open once again. "Uh... I'm sure the words you were using were English, but I have no idea what the hell you just said. You want me to get a new cell phone? I don't like those camera-things. Too much Spy versus Spy."

"We're GlassWalkers, Natalie, not Get of Fenris. We're supposed to travel in style, and have every means necessary to combat the Wyrm." Jermey turns, opening up his trench coat, revealing a utility belt that'd give BatMan a heart attack. "I have, left to right, an iPod, forty Gig with FM transmitter built into the top. I use it as not only a MP3 player, but a digital storage device. Next to it, is an iPaq, HP, h5445. It has a blue tooth adapater, compact flash and SD reader. With this, I can access the internet virtually anywhere I want to, and even use it as a GPS incase I get lost. On the other hip, I got my Sony Ericson, the tribal phone I told you about, then, next to it is a small emergency tool kit." He slips his hand into one of his inner pockets, pulling out a can of pepper spray. Pulling back the coat, he reveals a pair of barretta's strapped to the small of his back.

"Be nice," Nat advises, "Or I'll tie you to a chair and read plumbing code at you." She snerks. "Not that it wouldn't be a bad idea. If I am going to get licensed here I'll have to review it anyway. I'm not much into technology -- computers, anyway. I get my jollies from buying table saws and power tools."

Jeremy grins faintly. "I can rebuild cars as well, build chemical bombs out of kitchen materials, and put virtually any gun or rifle together if it was in pieces before me. I lived with a psychotic Metis named Roger, who was one of those scientist type Garou. He was always preparing for the big one. He's the guy that got blown up in the safehouse a few years ago. Galliard also by the way." He notes with a nod of his head. "I loved that guy. He was my bro. We'd pull shit right an left and giggle like school girls. You know the entire house here is microphone bugged and got mini cameras everywhere? It'll take a damn good pair of eyes to find 'em."

Natalie, thus cued, has to look. "You know what they say about paranoia, right?"

"I just had the Russian Special Ops break into my house an shoot Salem an I up last month. I think I got a right to be paranoid. They acid melted the locks off the doors and bars on the windows. It was the cameras in the hallway, roof, and fire escape that saved my life." Jeremy says, bluntly.

Natalie says, "...Maybe I'll take up farming. I hear Iowa's nice." She chuffs a half-laugh, more than half disbelieving, and turns back to the sink. "You're practically enough to make me go Luddite." She holds up a dripping hand to forestall argument. "I'll take the new phone, fine. And I'll take any help you can give me in digging up stuff too. Just don't expect my part of the conversation to be more than smiling and nodding, 'kay? The glazed eyes are a bonus."

"Its alright. I don't think anyone ever knows what the hell I'm saying half the time as it is. I'm starting to think I talk like this on purpose so I can feel important." Jermey grins. "I gotta keep myself in a job ya'know."

Natalie lifts a shoulder. "Just means you're passionate about what you do. Anyone who gets that deep into something can do that. Me, it's building codes. Every... every job, hobby, what have you has its own language. Gotta keep the riffraff out someway, right?"

Jeremy nods her head and chuckles. "I am passionate about it I guess. But... yah... so..." He clears his throat. "I'll getcha that phone, an set you up, even show ya how to use it if you want."

Natalie fumbles around in the sink, lets the water out. "Appreciated. Where do you guys hide the towels?" Miss Drippy Hands doesn't move away from the sink. "So far nothing in St. Claire's been exactly what I expected. You're nothing like Rina, who's nothing like Salem..." She cocks her head, casts a considering eye your way. "There's a story with him, right? 'Cause he sure as hell doesn't look like a Walker."

"There is a story with Salem, but I am unsure if he would wish for me to repeat it. Salem has been here a long, long time. If you want to learn about him, I'd suggest you ask him. I am not sure if the Don would like me to air his dirty laundry." Jeremy offers with a smile, tugging a towel out from the handle of the fridge, tossing it to her.

Natalie almost hooks it with an elbow, but has to stoop to snag it from the floor. "Yeah, all right. I'll do that sometime when he feels like talking again. ...I suppose that story isn't one you want to go into either, huh?"

Jeremy shakes his head, waving his hands around. "Hell No."

Natalie grins sidelong. "Hey, can't blame me for asking. I'm a professional gossip. So what can you tell me? 'Bout anything, real.. no, wait. This cub, Katrine. What do you know about her?"

"Katrine was found by Alicia Henderson, Fostern of the Children of Gaia. She had a kinfetch, but at the time, Salem was out of town and was unable to pick up on the spirit. So, Ali raised her up until Salem got back and then dropped her off. Um.. from what I heard.. Salem did his usual 'I'm a dick head an you are my cub, not a friend' routine, and afterwards, she sheltered herself away upstairs. I was the one teaching her about the tribe and what not, because with Salem's.. voice malfuction. So, now that she's old enough and nearly ready for her Rite, I took her out to the farm with the other cubs to learn interaction and pack hierarchy. Once Salem gets his voice back, I am sure he'll have more interaction with her an Josh. But now that you are here.." He trails off. "She could use you. A sister in the ranks of the same moon."

Natalie stacks both plates - nicely dry, thank you - beside the sink and starts in on the accoutrements. "Whoa there, George. This isn't a feminism forever book. Yeah, I'll talk to her - hell, I'll probably teach her too. But you might have noticed, I'm kinda pushy myself. Plus I'm rotten at teaching cubs."

"You think you're pushy?" Jeremy chuckles. "Wait until you meet her. She's a brick wall. If you can get her to laugh, I'll give you a hundred bucks, on the spot."

Natalie grins. "You're on. Might be a while before I meet her, though. She's on the bawn, and I haven't even been checked for Taint yet. Hell, I'm half surprised Salem let me in the front door. So unless she rites and gets her butt back to town..."

Jeremy shrugs. "She's at the Farm, which is off the Bawn." Glancing up at the sound of the buzzer going off, he takes out his PDA and taps a few buttons. He furrows his brows. "Got company." He tosses the device to you, heading for the front door. On the screen, shows a mpeg image of the front door, a camera shot of Signe outside.

Signe enters the mansion from the outside.

Jeremy opens up the front door for the Get, then heads back inside, calling in. "Hey Natalie, you gotta meet Signe. She's in Salem's pack."

Thankfully Nat shows more dexterity catching the PDA than she did the towel. "Company, hey? Huh." She trails after Jer yet again, ending up near the stairs as the door opens.

Signe watches Jeremy run past, scowling faintly. "Hi to you too," she says, then spots Natalie. Mild surprise replaces some of that scowl, and as she comes in, she manages to mutter, "Uh, hey."

Signe:

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.

"Hey yourself," Natalie returns, confusion in her eyes. "Uh... I thought he told me last night he didn't have a pack." She's not going to get any answers from Jeremy so turns her attention to Signe instead. "Natalie Baker, called Holds-the-Line. Galliard and Cliath. You must not be a Walker, huh?"

Signe regards the new Walker with harshly discerning eyes. At first she doesn't answer, taking her time shutting the door and making her way down the front hall to the foot of the stairs. "No, I'm not," she eventually answers, the slight sharpness of her voice expressing mild distaste at the idea. "I'm the Get Jarl. Signe, Skadi's Defiant Storm. Full moon, fostern. And Salem doesn't have a pack, yet. Not technically, anyway. We have yet to seek a spirit."

Natalie jerks her head toward the parlor, flashing a hint of throat to the older woman. "Oh. He told me last night... anyway. He said it needed a Galliard, and maybe I'd be it. Who else is there, besides you?"

Signe's surprise increases. "Salem said that, huh?" she asks, moving toward the parlor. She does so by turning sideways though, apparently unwilling to stop studying the galliard. "Couple Shadow Lords," she says, quickly and unpleasantly, "And maybe a Fianna named Charlie. A girl named Charlie. Ragabash."

Natalie watches Signe's travel out of the corner of one eye, careful not to make eye contact. "Not Jarred, I suppose? I gotta see if I'm willing to stick around first, but yeah, that's what he said."

Signe nearly chokes on the idea. "No. Not Jarred," she says, more than firmly. "Couple of theurges. Cutter, and some kid named Jean." After a pause, she asks the galliard, "What do you think will determine that for you?"

Natalie says, "Didn't think so. After what little I heard last night I guess he'd rather hand Jarred's ass to him in a bucket." To answer the question she simply lifts a shoulder. "Dunno, really. If I can pack, mostly. If I -want- to pack. I talked to Salem-rhya couple of hours last night, and now there's you. I'd want to meet the rest of you first, see if we can work together." Nat grins, faintly. "Don't suppose we could all get together for an old-fashioned Amish greenhouse-raising, huh?"

Signe flashes a feral, pleased grin at the idea of Salem kicking Jarred's ass. "Yeah, no doubt," she rasps out in regards to the idea, chuckling under her breath. "That's a great idea, actually. I'll have to talk to Jack, see if we can get everyone together. Either way, if you want, I can leave you a card with my address on it. You can come visit and get to know me better, at least."

Natalie bobs her head, pleased. "Yeah, that'll do. I'd give you my cellphone number, but Jeremy's threatened that I'm getting a new one with all sorts of bells and crap." She shoots an undecipherable smirk after the kin's flown back. "I have the feeling I'd better stick around here until further notice. You come around often?"

Signe pulls a wallet out of an inside pocket of her jacket. The card is actually that of a child psychologist, Rachel Paxson. On the back, in blue pen ink, is Signe's name, phone number, and the small, scrawled, 'apt. A'. "Not often enough. But I'm usually findable. The front number's good, too. Rachel lives above me. We're... close."

Natalie takes the card and gives it a quick once-over before sliding it into a back pocket. "Gotcha. 'F you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go look around the yard. I didn't get a good at this place last night in the dark, and I dunno how long it's going to be sunny."

Signe nods, moving toward Salem's office as the galliard excuses herself. "See you later."

[End of log]