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.

Contents:
Layne

Obvious exits:
Tower Stairway Elder's Office Front Doors

Natalie closes the door behind the Philodox, the latch snicking shut. "Thank you for coming by. Come on in, have a seat. Can I get you something? Coffee? Juice? Water?"

Layne:

There's still a darkly brooding look to those shadowed, pale eyes, but it isn't without the occasional flash of pearly whites in a grin that any pixie would envy. Those who know her true nature (woof, aroo) might find Layne's remarkably catlike and mercurial moods amusing. In passing, she exudes something like indifference. She seems wary, untrusting, as if beneath the usual devil-may-care attitude, a part of her has hardened on the inside, hidden away. She seems to look her age, at twenty-two.

No mistaking her Northern European descent: pronounced, elegant features, long limbs--at a glance, there's something of an elven quality to her appearance. Since stripped of the unnatural dyes, long hair flows freely around her shoulders, its coloring an ashy blonde, growing darker underneath. When arms are exposed, one might notice a broad, spiderweb scar, which stands out against her left bicep, whitish-pink in contrast to the light tan.

She's wearing a black sleeveless tee, the bottom of which falls just short of a wide, leather belt sitting low on her hips, revealing a belly-ring and, behind, part of a tattoo: a Celtic knot in a circlet of ivy. The jeans she wears, fit snugly over toned legs, are old and fraying around the hems but prove reliable. She seems to favor a pair of thick-soled, black leather biker boots, and the matching jacket when weather warrants such. As far as jewelry goes, Layne is fond of her piercings: studs alternate with hoops along either ear, another ring in her right eyebrow. Around both wrists are black, spiked leather cuffs.

Layne flashes a quick smile to the Walker as she steps in through the doors, and sweeps eyes through the vast entry. "Wow," she sums up in a word, then shakes her head at the offer of a drink. "Ah, no--thanks." The Fianna goes about finding a place to sit.

Natalie grins over her shoulder as she leads the way into the parlor. "Yeah, I know. Hell of a place, isn't it? There's, hmm... There's a greenhouse out back if you'd rather. Not much in the way of plants out there, but it's not so damn ostentatious."

"Eh? Oh, I don't care... really." And the look on her face as she settles onto a cushioned chair suggests she really doesn't. She shifts her weight on the seat, getting comfortable, then rests eyes levelly on her host. "So. What, exactly, can I help with?"

Natalie seats herself within easy conversational distance, her forearms resting on the arms of the chair. "Leala's Challenge. I came up with another idea, and I wanted to run it past you. Sure I can't get you anything?"

Layne tilts her head forward, then nods slightly. "Yeah, I'm sure." She leans back, looking curious. "Let's hear what you've got."

"Right." Nat leans back in her chair, but doesn't relax. "You've heard of Joshua, I'm sure. My idea is to have Leala decide what to do with him, and justify herself to three other Tribal Elders. If they agree with her plan, she passes. For the Elders I'm thinking Megan, an Elder Leala picks, and an Elder I pick. What do you think? Doable?"

Layne's brows knit. "Do with him? Hasn't he already been booted from the tribe?"

Natalie flings up a hand. "Yes? No? You were there, weren't you, when Megan told me firmly that no one could be removed from the tribe without their say-so? A few days later Joshua told me - in front of Trevor, mind - that he wasn't a Walker anymore. However, I've spoken to Salem about it. It's his opinion that unless we make him Ronin, Josh is still a Walker until and unless he's adopted by another tribe. So." The woman sighs and runs her palms down her thighs. "Unless he is adopted, it sounds like he's still the Walkers' problem. ...Mind you, if he ends up getting himself killed or adopted between now and Leala's challenge, I'm perfectly willing for this to be a... hypothetical situation. Megan wanted something short; I want something that will prove she's a leader. Dealing with this situation will, I believe, do both."

"Then I guess he's still a Walker -- in name, if not in spirit." The Philodox taps fingers against her lips, then nods, sharply. "The challenge terms seem fair. Has anyone from your tribe approached Joshua about what -he- wishes to do, since he left?"

Natalie's lips purse. "Not precisely. That is to say, he made his announcement on Tuesday. That same night he showed up at the gate, stinking drunk and making demands. I found out from Alicia that he'd been burying beer bottles on the bawn. I haven't heard from him since. If anyone else has talked to him, they haven't mentioned it to me."

Layne grimaces, shrugging one shoulder. "Sounds like a real fuckin' challenge to me, then." Blinking calmly at the Walker, she asks, just wondering about particulars now, "Making demands?"

Nat answers, "He wanted his laptop. I sent Tony to get it, but I don't know if it ended up in Joshua's hands. Alicia came by, managed to metaphorically wrestle him down, then talked to him here in the basement. I didn't listen; at that time I didn't considere him a Walker and besides which, I was tired. There weren't any screams or anything, and I haven't seen him since. I assume he's out on the bawn."

Layne seems a little surprised at the news of Wolf-Heart coming here to demand his laptop, but shrugs. "Mixed up kid... but he's a Cliath, now, by Gaia's good graces, and that much we've gotta respect. Personally, I'd see him go Ronin for a while, and take a long, hard look inside." The Fianna shrugs.

Natalie's answering smile is tight, but she replies pleasantly enough, "Yes. Well. If the terms of the challenge are agreeable to you, I'll present them to Leala on the 15th or so. She has until the next full moon to complete the terms." She stands, then, unsubtle suggestion that she, at least, considers the conversation over.

Layne rises casually from her seat and, brushing fingers back through her hair, says to the Walker, "Right. Let me know if there're any issues with that." Then she's heading for the doors.

Natalie escorts the Fianna out.

[End of log]