DATE:  Saturday, January 25, 1996
Place:  The Small House

---- Recall start ----

JJ Malone studies the rough-sketch of the Academy she drew from memory. "I'd 
   really like to get the guard out of the picture somehow. Short out his 
   cameras or something."
Vincent says "It would be nice if we had the spirits on our side, yes."
As usual, Pete doesn't knock at the door but cracks it open, pokes his head in 
   and looks around. "'s up?"
Vincent looks up, moving to block the view of the plans before he realizes 
   it's Pete.
JJ Malone pauses, in itself significant, but then she shrugs. "Just discussing 
   how to get the plans situation for Vince." She then looks at Pete, as if 
   waiting to get some sort of clue of why he showed before making any 
   assumptions.
Pete Barlow closes the door behind him, locking it.
"Got your note," says Barlow as he pulls his knit cap off. "Sounded kinda 
   mysterious and shit. What's up?"
JJ Malone runs the webbing of her left hand over her chin, then asks casually, 
   but not casually enough, "You talked to Becs or any of the Wharf Rats since 
   the Meeting?"
"Since the Moot?" asks Pete as he finds an open seat. "Saw her this afternoon. 
   You guys gonna join us for the superbowl tomorrow night?"
Vincent looks on, without comment.
JJ Malone seems faintly startled. "You seem fairly calm about it. I thought 
   you'd be putting holes in the roof."
Pete Barlow relaxes into the chair, letting his head rest back against the 
   chair. "Why? I love Packers but I don't get /that/ wound up about the 
   Bowl." Pete closes his eyes, obviously intent on a momentary rest.
Vincent looks at JJ.
JJ Malone seems to catch Vincent's glance and throws him one back along with a 
   silent urging expression, almost a request to step in for her.
Vincent says "So, Becca's caught you up on all the news, then, Pete? Her take 
   on the Moot? What her pack thinks of the mission? New York? Tex?""
Pete Barlow doesn't open his eyes, his hands resting on his stomach. "She and 
   Ellie were talkin' some about FiannaBoy and his assignments. Didn't say 
   much about Tex... but they did good work, the Rats did. Tex? She didn't say 
   a peep about Tex. He on the loose again or something?"
Vincent says "Someone throated him while we were at the Moot." He is typically 
   blunt. "Not one of us."
JJ Malone corrects, "Cut his throat, actually."
Vincent nods, corrected.
The big Gnawer's eyes open and he looks at Vincent. The turning of wheels in 
   his head is almost visible. Barlow's looks over at JJ. Then back to 
   Vincent. He says nothing for a long time, maybe 20 or 30 seconds.
Vincent says "Want a beer, Malone? Pete?"
JJ Malone is simply looking back at Pete, although Vincent at least is 
   probably aware enough of a subtle tension, prepared to go into action if 
   necessary. Inanely, perhaps, she says quietly, "Don't break the furniture, 
   Pete."
Barlow's right thumb begins to tap rhythmically on the edge of the chair. "Get 
   me... a couple." Two deep breaths, controlled breaths, breaths that hiss 
   out like the release of a pressure cooker. "Give me details." The words are 
   soft, quiet, dangerous.
Vincent gets the beers from the fridge in the kitchen. "Details? Malone, the 
   details?"
JJ Malone shakes her head, faintly in denial. "I don't have details. Becca 
   told me about it." Her pause as she looks back at the Gnawer is 
   significant. "They came back from the Meeting and his throat had apparently 
   been cut open." She considers momentarily. "I got the impression from what 
   she said that it was probably done by a knife, but I could be wrong on 
   that. He didn't seem to have shifted, and they couldn't find any scent of 
   who did it around." Her recital is dry, matter-of-fact.
Vincent hangs on to one of the beers from the sixpack for himself. "Kid didn't 
   have what it takes," he states, matter-of-factly dismissing the young boy's 
   tragically brief life.
Pete Barlow shoots a dark look at Vincent, rising with incredible speed to his 
   feet, speed that carries him toward Vincent though not in the theurge's 
   face... not yet. "Who are you to judge that?" Seems some of the steam 
   didn't get hissed away.
JJ Malone looks between the two men, then says casually, "Does it matter? He's 
   dead."
Vincent says "I'm the one who took the time to talk to him, to listen to him, 
   and to understand him." He calmly drinks his beer. "And that is the 
   judgement I made. And Becca disagreed with me. I nearly had to kill her 
   when she thought my advice was meant as an intrusion. She really cared for 
   that boy. It surprised me."
There is a rattle at the front door, then a sharp rapping.
Pete Barlow seems almost confused or frustrated by the "talk," a low growl 
   deep in his throat. He paces. Saying nothing, just the pacing.
Vincent goes to the door, beer in hand.
JJ Malone continues to sit where she is as Vincent gets the door, then, still 
   watching Pete carefully.
The rapping comes again, more insistent and slightly annoyed.
Vincent checks through the peephole.
Pete Barlow slows in his pacing and then stops, looking at the door. He then 
   turns back and walks to stand near JJ. "We don't know shit about who did 
   it? No scents? No signs? Anyone talk to the spirits there? The rats?"
Vincent opens the door, letting Cutter in, then closing and locking the portal 
   again.
Cutter saunters into the room, scanning the area for ashtrays.
Vincent says "I could give that a shot, I suppose."
Elspeth pops her head breezily round the door.
Pete Barlow looks over at Vincent. "So no one has done that yet?"
Vincent is stopped in the middle of closing and locking the door by Elspeth's 
   sudden appearance there. "Sorry, didn't see you."
JJ Malone puts her hands up, in a gesture that could be interepreted as 'Don't 
   look at me.' "I'm only the messenger. I figured Becca wouldn't be stupid 
   enough *not* to tell you after yesterday. She took responsibility for it, 
   she and Wharf Rats, remember?" Her tone is faintly hard at the question.
"In like the mist," says Elspeth in a conspiratorial tone, positively wafting 
   past Vinnie.
"Shit," says Barlow his frustration now bleeding openly into his expression 
   and fueling his agitation. "And that gawddamned Rob is gone. Fuck." He 
   looks over at Vincent. "I'll talk to them myself." Barlow shoots a baleful 
   stare at Elsepth. "You knew, didn't you. This afternoon."
Vincent says "Beer, El? Cutter, a brewskie?"
Cutter glances back to Vincent as he settles on the floor near the sofa. 
   "Yeah, hit me. None of that cheap shit though."
Vincent tosses the last can from the six-pack Cutter's way, after first 
   handing the other can to Elspeth.
Elspeth s under the spotlight of Pete's stare. "I was waiting for Becca to 
   explain it herself -- it bein' a tribe thing above anythin' else... But I 
   certainly wasn't planning on letting her forget it all and claim Bill had 
   left with Rob like she was thinkin' of doin'."
Elspeth says "Beer, yeah -- great!"
JJ Malone says tersely to Elspeth, "She had the chance, and didn't, El. Yo, 
   Cutter man."
Cutter snags the can out of the air. "Uh. Did I miss somethin'?"
Vincent sighs. "It's regrettable, Tex dying. Becca had a chance to learn some 
   real values from him. She'd made a real start towards responsibility, 
   protecting him from the supposed threat I was to him.
Pete Barlow simply shakes his head. And as he does so the can of beer in his 
   right hand explodes in an amber shower of brew, crushed. "Ahh shit," growls 
   Barlow as he walks to the door. "If I need you, Vincent, I'll find you." He 
   pulls the door open.
Elspeth says "Regrettable, shit. It means there's something out there killin' 
   Garou!"
"Little," J.J. says to Cutter. "One of the Gnawer pups got himself deceased."
Vincent shrugs, and looks for a dishrag to mop up beer with. "It means someone 
   out there is cutting the throats of catatonic homeless waifs who can't 
   defend themselves."
JJ Malone's expression flashes in anger at Pete's departure, but she decides 
   wisdom is the better part of valor and doesn't voice whatever it is she's 
   dying to. She waves Vincent off a little over-curtly, leaving him in the 
   living room to go into the kitchen and dig up towels to clean up the mess.
Cutter turns his attention to watch Pete leave after nodding to JJ.
Pete Barlow stops dead, the door held half open. He turns to look at JJ, a 
   hard look and then shakes his head. "You know where it find me. There is 
   work to do."

---- Recall end ----