Retro

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley, bereft of a normal working schedule now and left only with her evening classes, has requested that Enid come to her apartment early every day this week. If it weren't for silly things like requiring heat and sustenance, she'd consider this turn of events a fortuitous one: it gives her more time to devote to training Enid, to helping the girl focus and turn her thoughts toward her own advancement.

Enid's noticed very little change in the older Hermetic as far as getting "better" goes; her skin still carries an odd pallor, her gaze is troubled. But even if she's not getting better, she seems to be adjusting. To be getting used to it, the same way one gets used to constant headaches or to hearing glaring bursts of noise where song used to be.

Regardless, when the girl walks into Ashley's apartment today she's lying on her back on the couch, an arm folded around behind her head, reading through a volume of poetry. She seems to have shrunk somehow in the past two weeks, to something even smaller and more self-contained than she already was.

But it's a process of stepping upwards and out. And when she hears Enid at the door she raises herself up on her elbows and sets the book aside, ready to work. "Morning, Enid."

[Enid Geraint]
"Hey! I thought about bringing a mix CD but then realized that wouldn't be any good and I know you like tea so here's this and also I asked the teachers who know about things like aromatherapy what was good for . . . well. I kind of described what you're like now," she's a bit apologetic with that, "because depression didn't seem right and we came up with these and I brought chai because I know you like it and also there were random acts of baking and I have chocolate."

The girl makes herself busy - like a little sister, or a younger room-mate, and with equal potential to be annoying in either case. Chai and sachets (that smell quite nicely with things that would, indeed, have a positive impact where it a normal sort of depression) are handed over and she moves to the kitchen to set up a plate of baked goods (sweet breads and cookies, mostly) and chocolate before she comes to settle on the floor by the coffee table on which she sets her little plate of snacks, next to her half finished mocha-thing (with extra espresso, which probably explains some of the energy).

"I finished my workout, showered and came here," she says, and that likely explains the rest.

[Ashley McGowen]
It's a wonder Ashley hasn't gained ten pounds since beginning her friendship with Enid. Every time the girl comes over, or every time Ashley visits, she's given food. Food and tea. Ashley, despite the Hermetic name she has taken, is Romanian by blood, and if eastern Europeans are known for anything it's their proclivity for foisting food on whoever will take it. And so she's used to this, accepts it as the affectionate gesture it's meant for.

"Thanks, Enid. Go ahead and sit down," she says, gesturing toward the empty chair that sits across from her couch on the coffee table. She takes one of the cookies, bites into it, chews thoughtfully for a few moments before she says, "I'm not depressed." Though, perhaps, that is a bit of a lie: there is certainly an emotional impact this has been having.

And then, brushing the crumbs off of her hands, "Sometimes certain actions leave a sort of death taint behind. Wharil is helping me with it. So I don't want you to worry."

[Enid Geraint]
"I figured it was worth a try, and unlikely to hurt the situation," she says with a shrug, then listens attentively to the rest; given the consequences of her Awakening, it can't be surprising that she's curious about this sort of thing. I don't want you to worry gets a wry twist of lips and Enid shrugs. "You're my friend, right? I mean, aside from and in addition to the teacher thing. Of course I worry. It's what friends do when another friend is having a hard time."

But then there's thought for a moment, followed by, "What's it called, this death-taint?" Names are important. They help compartmentalize, help put things in order.

[Ashley McGowen]
"Jhor." The rest of the food is left there on the plate; it isn't that Ashley dislikes the taste, or that Enid's a bad cook - far from it. More that she simply finds herself somewhat without the desire to eat lately. Perhaps, under Wharil's advice, all the more reason she should do it, but it's difficult to bring herself to just now. "I'll learn to deal with it."

She leans back against the couch, toes coming up to curl against the very edge of the coffee table as she regards the girl. "So. I was wondering if you had any questions about anything you've read so far regarding the Code of Hermes or our history. And I wanted to give you some things to think about while you're away in China."

[Enid Geraint]
".....how do you get Jhor?" This is awfully interesting for a girl who adamantly swears she's innocent of the crimes the press had all but convicted her of bare months ago, and is asked, though redundant, for confirmation's sake. It's important, that question, and the others its answer will no doubt bring. But then there's the rest, and Enid smiles.

"Most of it makes sense. I mean, in a common sense sort of way. And, even though I've never seen or heard of faeries outside of literature, I can make the semi-logical assumption that they exist, or did at one point. And I can . . . kind of . . . get how magic or lack thereof is more important than death. Kind of," she adds with a furrowed brow that implies 'not quite'. "I guess, actually, all of it makes sense, but for the faerie part, and the obsession with being killed if there's a misstep. I mean . . . people make mistakes, yeah?"

[Ashley McGowen]
"You spend too much time around death, or you kill someone with magic," is Ashley's sole response to the Jhor question. Then, when she notices that the girl is interested, when she remembers that Enid has already killed, that she and Wharil discussed it, she adds, "Wharil can probably give you more detail on it than I can. The Euthanatos have gotten pretty good at dealing with it."

And to the rest, she listens intently. Evaluating. When Enid suggests that she might be killed if there's a misstep, Ashley smiles and shakes her head. "You have to remember that the Order is over a thousand years old, and punishments have adapted with the times. Generally, unless you -really- do something terrible, you're going to be called before a tribunal, and in most cases you'll get a slap on the wrist. So don't feel too bound up by the Code. It's still important for you to push and test yourself. They're just...ground rules for how to act around other Hermetics, for the most part."

[Enid Geraint]
".....huh," she says about the first, noncommittally. "I'll . . . talk to him, then." Maybe. Some time. Eventually.

The talk about the Code, though, gets a hint of relief, a relaxation of shoulders. "Good. I heard . . . well, never mind that." Ashley knows who Enid's mother is, after all, and knows that if Ashley recognized her for what she is, Kaye probably recognized Ashley as well. It stands to reason that there'd be a battle of sorts for the girl. "I've done . . . nasty things, depending on who's looking. But I don't think I've broken the Code at any point. So, if I run into other Hermetics, these are the rules to follow." That's not a question - it's an understanding, more than anything else. "And what about other Awakened people?"

[Ashley McGowen]
She heard. Ashley's eyebrows raise, as she wonders who the girl "heard" things from. She thinks she knows, though; it doesn't take an archmaster to figure out that the girl would have been fed propaganda by her mother and her other Technocrat friends. The better to give her the truth so she can keep her eyes open.

"There aren't any rules for them," Ashley says after a moment. "Which doesn't mean it isn't frowned upon if you harm them or get in their way. You just won't be brought before a Hermetic tribunal for it."

There's a short pause as she considers how to frame what she says next. Her own recent interactions with the Euthanatos in particular have made her rethink, to an extent, her opinion on the uselessness of the other Traditions. "One thing you should keep in mind is that other Traditions use the Will as well. It's beneath everything they do and how their magic works. They just -call- it something else, and in doing so, they're holding themselves back. I can do anything if I Will it so. That's not what other Traditions tell themselves."

[Enid Geraint]
".....how come you and Mom say the same things, except where it applies to each other?" This, it seems, is very important to the younger girl.

[Ashley McGowen]
The idea that she might be in any way similar to Enid's Technocrat mother is clearly a disturbing one to the older Hermetic. Though up until last week at the chantry she'd never taken a life, she spent the better part of three years assisting two Flambeau in attacks on the Union that bordered on terrorism. After returning to a somewhat more peaceful lifestyle (as peaceful as hers gets) she's worked against them on their own grounds, in the office, with the Sleepers.

It's safe to say that she holds a grudge.

So when she looks across the coffee table at Enid, she doesn't really seem to know what to say at first. And when she does, she chooses her words carefully. "I don't think we say the same things at all, Enid," she says. "The Technocracy feeds the Sleepers a safe life and removes any drive they could have to make themselves better. It robs them of things to strive for. We don't want the same things."

[Enid Geraint]
".....I think you might be wrong," Enid says with a shrug. "But I'm new to this. And have been oblivious for . . . oh, I don't even know how long. So I might be wrong, too. But, I think you might want the same thing. Just . . . in different ways. Like Wharil and Austin and Kage see things differently, but more so. Uncle Dan got pissed when I suggested that, but Uncle Zeke was all quiet and thoughtful."

She's quiet for a moment and picks up a piece of bread (a banana/peanut butter/chocolate concoction that Ashley'd witnessed the first iteration of) to nibble on with the last of her mocha before she returns to the more important topic at hand - as far as she's concerned. She's grown up with a Technocratic amalgam in her life's periphery, after all.

"So I have a vote in these tribunals, right? After . . . a certain point in training, I think. What do they get called for, and when, and where? I think I'd like to see one. They sound like they need lawyers and judges."

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley, for whatever reason, is often much more patient with Enid than she is with anyone else. She has yet to lose her temper with the girl. But right now, she's coming damn close. "No. We do -not- want the same thing. We're working toward opposite things, Enid. Technocrats aren't misunderstood. They destroy people like us."

And then there's a brief, heavy pause. "And I realize we've been very open with each other so far, but don't tell me I'm wrong again. I'm your mentor now. Remember that."

And then the girl changes the subject, and with one last flare of nostrils Ashley leans back against the seat. "There's a house constructed specifically for that purpose. House Quaesitor. It's a long process becoming a Quaestori, though. Generally they'll want you to earn a law degree in the Sleeper world and train with them at the same time."

[Enid Geraint]
"Do we destroy people like them?" But it's muttered, quiet, almost sullen. Ashley's witnessed this sort of behavior, but not directed her way - when she saw it before, it had been directed towards Technocrats, towards the younger girl's mother and her friends. It is, of course, followed by, ".....I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

The rest gets a raised eyebrow, and, "I'm going to get my law degree," spoken in tones that hold hints of Will that would inspire envy in others. "And maybe more than. And I'm going to do this, too." She doesn't do things half way, this little Hermetic that could.

[Ashley McGowen]
For a split second, that sullen response concerns Ashley, and it's reflected in the look she gives Enid: a quick glance upward, as if to check to make sure she's still there, to see whether she's completely withdrawn from the conversation. But that's only for a second. She'll have to be harsh more often than not, it's good for Enid.

And at the apology, she nods and lets the matter rest, and moves on to the topic of the Quaestori.

Enid's determination earns a smile. "Good words. Now show me you mean them. But don't be afraid to explore other things. It's good for you to move outside of what you're comfortable doing." And another short pause. "What do you think it means to achieve perfection?"

[Enid Geraint]
"I think it means achieving your goals, sometimes because of the obstacles along the way, and surpassing them. I also don't think a person can achieve perfection in mortal life - or one lifetime, however you choose to look at it. I think it takes a lot more thought and effort, study and practice, than anyone can be expected to do in eighty to a hundred years. And that's assuming we start at birth."

Which doesn't mean, of course, that Enid won't try - she's the sort that strives, that perseveres, that goes on despite all odds.

"What do you think it means?" It could be taken as impertinent, though it's not meant so. Enid wonders, is all.

[Ashley McGowen]
"If you think it isn't attainable, you're limiting yourself. Perfection is Ascension, and it's the goal of the Hermetic way of life. Everything you do from now on should be toward that goal and the mastery of the self, and that's why I encourage you to think on it." Ashley pauses to let that sink in, to watch the girl and fold her hands together, relaxed, resting on the thigh of the leg that's been slightly raised to rest at the edge of the end table.

What does she think it is? Ashley doesn't seem to regard the question as impertinent. Her answer might sound almost practiced, but that isn't quite the word: it's the conviction of someone who knows what she believes and has been working toward the same goal with singleminded clarity for years. "I think it's growing and changing and learning to adapt to every situation the world can throw at you. Learning to bear losses with grace and overcome the challenges you're given. And I think when I reach the point when I have nothing left to learn, I'll have attained it."

"Do you understand how this all applies to the Will and to magic?"

[Enid Geraint]
"Aren't we limited, even as Awakened? I mean, there are still barriers we have to break, and no small number of them at that, I'd imagine," Enid says, all in the tones of a potentially precocious student speaking to her teacher - which she is, so it follows. "And of course I'm working towards it - I was doing that even before I Awakened, even if I didn't understand how far it could go. Does anyone, really? I mean . . . we're finite beings. And you've trained longer than I have, and experienced more, but . . . if you're ten years closer to the infinite, doesn't that mean you still have infinity to go through to reach it? There's not . . ."

She frowns, uncertain.

"I don't know. Anyway, I think your views on perfection probably affect how you pursue your ongoing study of magic."

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley listens to this explanation, to Enid's thoughts on infinity, and gives a slow shake of the head. "Those are good thoughts. But you can't think of it in the context of infinity. It's a state of being, and by definition that means the search has to end somewhere."

"As for how it applies to the Will, understand that your Will is your manifestation of the self and how you affect the world, and not only magically. Any action you take is something you Will yourself to do. So as you learn and near that state, your ability to affect the world around you becomes more pure and defined. That extends to Willworking."

And, after another brief pause, a chance to let Enid absorb all of it and make herself comfortable, she jerks her thumb toward her study. "I don't want to overwhelm you with too much of this. Let's go get started on some more reading."

[Enid Geraint]
"Alright," she answers the last agreeably, though it's clear the rest won't be forgotten - it'll be stuff for her to think about while she's traveling and so forth. The girl doesn't do well with down time, it would seem from the time Ashley's known her. And then, as books are gathered - and she certainly doesn't complain about the work load, but instead takes the assigned books with a reverence that few modern adults show, let alone teenagers - she asks, "Hey, how much of this is it okay to talk to Austin about, if I want to brainstorm?"

And, aside from that, it's chatter about the books, and so forth.

[Ashley McGowen]
She follows the girl to the study, and it's fortunate that Enid doesn't complain; doing so would most assuredly have made Ashley reach the conclusion that she wasn't exhausted enough and hadn't been pushed hard enough yet, and would have resulted in more work. Delivered teasingly, but delivered nonetheless. It's a lesson that Enid has perhaps already learned from this week's studies.

"You can talk to Austin about most of it. Not the Hermetic Word, not most of the rotes I'll eventually be teaching you, and definitely not your True Name, once you've learned it. Everything else, you're free to discuss."

And, those boundaries established, they turn their attention to outlining the reading she'll be doing while traveling.

Adventures in Travel

[Enid Geraint]
Enid has lists. A lot of lists, in fact.
There are lists of things that need to get done, lists of things she needs to pack, lists of things to remind her dad about for while she's gone, lists of things in the notebook (which she's bringing with her) that Wharil's assigned - there are all sorts of things.
She's very organized, Enid is - at least about this trip, if not everything else. Her dad is driving her to the airport, dropping her off, and Enid offered the same to Austin as well, of course - it's cheaper than a cab, and it's a bit of a head start on their adventure.

Parting from Papa Geraint is a thing of excitement and teary eyes that Enid does a reasonably good job of hiding - this will be the longest she's spent away from her dad in . . . well, in ever, and she's a bit nervous about it, to be honest. But there's nothing that will persuade her not to go, and so, with time to spare, she (or they) finds herself waiting for the flight to be called.

[Austin Conway]
There had been a moment of slight discomfort on Austin's part, while riding with Enid to the airport, where he sat quietly and contemplated the position he was in, both from his own perspective and that of Enid's father. Xu Laoshi had instilled in him quite early on the necessity of being able to look at a situation from multiple perspectives, and he'd taken that to heart. One could not truly see something unless they saw it from all angles.

So here he was, tagging along on a vacation that was supposed to be Enid's alone; letting her pay for him; potentially distracting her from her true purpose there (though chances seemed likely that it was a distraction she at least welcomed.) And he was a legal adult (for all that the difference was only a year), male, and somewhat physically intimidating, which can't have been all that reassuring from a parent's perspective. Especially considering the short amount of time he and Enid had known each other. Being here with her now, and going on this trip.... it was too much, too soon. And he knew that. But Austin had allowed himself a moment of selfish indulgence, because if he were being entirely honest with himself (and he always tried to be), he needed this: to get away.

So he was unusually quiet in the car, and when they arrived at the airport and Enid said her goodbyes to her father, he forced himself to look away before he was reminded of anything that might make him break into tears again. (That was an incident he hoped very much not to have to repeat.) It wasn't until the two teenagers found themselves alone, waiting for the departure of their international flight, that Austin's mood started to shift away from quiet contemplation and towards a kind of bubbling excitement. He couldn't sit still (which was highly unusual for him). He kept standing up and pacing around, looking out the huge windows at the runway below or watching the milling strangers around them.

Finally he sat down again, and his fingers drummed against the arm rests on his seat. "Okay, I have to admit... I am ridiculously excited about all of this."

[Enid Geraint]
Eric, while not completely comfortable with the situation, trusts his daughter completely; if she trusts this young man enough on this short a time, then there must be a reason for it. There were admonishments to call if there was trouble, of course, or if she needed more money, or if she was homesick - any reason at all, any time at all. Enid, (not so) secretly pleased, rolled her eyes and reminded Eric that she wasn't a little girl any more, that in just a few months, she'll be as legal as Austin is. It's a thing - in theory, all parents do this with their children at some point. At least in the universe in which Enid lives, they do.

In the airport, alone, Enid isn't really any calmer than Austin is - she just covers it better, buries it in the air of someone who's traveled before. This is her first grown up trip, her first trip on her own, but she already has a passport, already has the papers she needs to work when she gets there, if she chooses to follow through on that. (One suitcase, and she has a few, is devoted to books - apparently, a little light reading's been assigned for the time she's away.) Austin sits next to her, drumming fingers, and she grins. "I am too," comes the answer, and one of her hands slips into one of his, briefly, just long enough to give a squeeze. "And I'm glad you're going to be there. It'd suck to do all the sight seeing and tourist stuff alone."

[Austin Conway]
"I don't know. I think maybe it would just be a different sort of trip. More about self exploration and contemplation. Less about enjoying something and sharing it with another person. Both perspectives have their merits. But I'm glad you're with me too. Especially since you speak the language, and about all I can say is hello, goodbye and thank you." That wasn't entirely true. Austin didn't have an aptitude for languages, but he was a very diligent worker, and had picked up a few things since they'd begun their lessons. Still, there was a long way to go before he'd be able to converse with anyone.

When Enid slid her hand into his and gave it a reassuring squeeze, he smiled and stopped fidgeting. When he placed his focus on her, rather than his excitement and nervous energy over the coming flight, it was easier to slip into his usual self. To be something approaching calm. Still, all that energy had to go somewhere...

So on impulse, he suddenly reached out and put both hands on the sides of Enid's face, drawing her into a spontaneous kiss that was all at once an expression of affection, attraction and gratitude.

"Thanks for bringing me."

And he kissed her again, after that, just to make sure the message had gotten through.

[Enid Geraint]
"You're doing lots better than that. Vocabulary-wise, anyway, even if you're not up for conversational use yet. But it'll come!"

Austin was calmed, for a moment, by her hand in his and Enid smiled. It was a given, probably; she likes him, likes holding his hand, likes hanging out with him, and now they're going on an adventure together. It's a heady thing, and in that moment of looking, Enid's leg starts jiggling a little bit. In this, she's Austin's opposite - focusing on him, rather than on keeping herself calm and cool, results in her own excitement showing.

And then, of course, she finds herself kissed. It's not the first time, but this, like so much else about this whole situation, is different. She kisses back; her lips part, just a little, and it's very much a reciprocal thing.

".....you're welcome," she says after a moment of bringing herself back to still and calm, only to find herself kissed again - it lasts longer and, given the excitement and energy levels involved, is a little less chaste than usual. There's a heat, a rush, in it that they normally don't get to before one of them pulls away - at least on her end.

"I'm really glad you're coming, like I said. And Dad's actually a little calmer about it, now that you're with me. You have no idea how much arguing there's been during the last few weeks' phone calls - Dad saying I'm to young to be in a foreign country alone, what if something bad happens, and Mom saying nonsense, he's wrong, I'm ready to get a taste of what the world has to offer me. I know they both love me and are worried and want the best, but man! It sure didn't make running through my check lists any easier."

[Austin Conway]
Sometimes, when Austin was with Enid, there were interesting moments where his mind and his body tried to forge two completely separate paths. The impulse behind the kiss had been fairly innocent, but he found that once he was there, and their lips were intertwined, and he could feel the warmth of her breath and the nearness of her physical presence, he wanted things that he wasn't even entirely ready to put names to.

So no, the second kiss wasn't entirely chaste on his end, either, though Austin was ultimately the one to pull back so that he could try and let his heart beat approach a normal pace again. A few seats away, a mother coughed gently and redirected her child's attention elsewhere, and this caused him to blush and laugh in that soft, conspiratorial way that teenagers tended to do when they realized they'd been doing something inappropriate in public.

"They're your parents. They'll always find something to worry about, or fight about, in regards to their daughter."

[Enid Geraint]
"I guess so," she says through a blush made impressive by fair skin and freckles; she ducks her head, hides it in Austin's shoulder for the barest of moments, and then is upright again. "Anyway, it's going to be a great trip, even without the internship. Maybe especially without it, given the company and all. And, since I'm not doing that, we can decide to come back home whenever we want."

A couple weeks together, alone, in a strange place where only one of them speaks the language may be enough. And, given proper initiation and all the research and memorization Enid's been assigned, it's highly doubtful she's going to stay away anywhere near as long as her parents think she is - a semester is an awfully long time, after all, to be away from one's mentor. Especially in these early stages. Regardless, they'll be playing it by ear.

"I have all those lists of places and interesting bits from Emily And we have five days in Taiwan first, to do whatever we want with."

[Austin Conway]
Come back home, Enid said, and Austin nodded noncommittally, as if it really made no difference to him where he was or for how long. Despite setting down some temporary roots in Chicago, he was still mostly in a state of flux. No home. No family. No mentor. Not even another of his tradition to talk to. It was a lonely state, and one he was likely happy to leave behind for awhile in the name of exploration (and escapism.)

"I bet we could be there for months and still only scratch the surface. Whatever we end up doing... it doesn't really matter to me. Just so long as we get to go out and see things. I kindof hoped you might decide not to take the internship, but... that's selfish of me, I suppose. I guess I just can't really get my head around... the situation with your Mom."

He seemed like he was about to say something else, but ultimately there wasn't much else he could say in such a public place, so he left it at that. Besides, getting into an in-depth discussion about technocrats was hardly going to start their trip off on the right foot.

"Or maybe we'll just spend the whole time in hotel rooms and never see anything cause we're so lost in hormonal bliss."

(Tricky, sneaky, distracting Austin.)

[Enid Geraint]
".....that last idea does have its merits," she admits, and never mind that her blush only deepens at the thought (and she's certainly not copping to how many times she's had similar, if any), "if you mean with each other." Tricky, sneaky, distracting Austin, indeed, and now it's Enid's turn to bounce up, to check the flight board to see if there's any change on the ETD of their plane.

"Miracle of miracles, it looks like we might be leaving on time," she says when she comes back (not that she'd gone far), her blush blessedly faded, leaving her looking like her normal self rather than some silly seventeen year old girl.

Oh, what? You say she's both? Well, she tries anyway - to seem more together, more grown up.

"I get really bad jet lag. The first day might be kind of boring, just so you know."

[Austin Conway]
"That's alright. I've...never had the opportunity to find out if I get jet lag. But hey, I guess pretty soon I'll know."

And despite the fact that he'd been the one to bring up the idea of getting lost in hormonal bliss, he seemed rather quick to drop the subject as well. Enid moved on, and he never looked back. (Because joking was one thing, but the more you talked about something, the more you made it real.)

"Anyway, I can be patient, so don't worry about it. We don't need to see all of Asia in one day."

[Enid Geraint]
"You will. And I'm glad you can be patient - I need it sometimes." Other people's patience, she means, and maybe in more ways than one - but she doesn't elaborate, just smiles and resumes her seat next to him, leans in to rest a head on his shoulder, allowing red hair to spill down over his chest. She likes the closeness, even if they haven't defined it, even if they're still in the odd limbo between friends and something else.

Something that allows for kissing like earlier.

"And even without jet lag, it'd take a lot of effort to see all of Asia in a day, I'd think." Which isn't denying the possibility, which is a lot better than she'd have been able to manage only a couple months ago.

[Austin Conway]
"True. And although I usually like challenges, I think I agree with you that new experiences shouldn't be rushed. They should be savored."

Luckily for Austin, he didn't realize just how obvious of a metaphor that statement really was. He could be blissfully naive at times. Which may have been part of why Enid liked him, to begin with. (Very much the opposite of a certain half Chinese Verbena.)

So Enid lay her head on his shoulder, and Austin put his arm around her, and the two of them passed the time in comfortable conversation until the departure time of their flight finally arrived. When their seats were called for boarding, Austin practically jumped to his feet, and once they were on the plane it took him a little time to settle his nerves. Likely, Enid would have to put up with a bit of excessive chatter until the newness of it all wore off and he was able to pull his focus inward and relax.

But once he did, he was quiet and meditative for the remainder of the trip. (That is, until they landed.)

Before Travel

[Ashley McGowen]
Get out of the house, Wharil said. One can't debate the fact that she needs to. Ashley has been inside for a week and a half now and has hardly found occasion to leave her apartment, except to go to the chantry the other night and to go out and get groceries when she needed to.

She hasn't called Enid. She hasn't protected Enid at all from Dylan, who is still out and around. And while she feels some guilt over that, she isn't sure whether she -should- have tried to protect her. Her mentor wouldn't have, and proper conduct dictates that Enid should be able to look after herself and that it will teach her to be more resourceful.

But it's while she's out that she texts Enid. I'm on a walk if you want to come meet me. And assuming the reply is an affirmative, she gives the street.

Ashley has Zane with her, on his leash as always. But there the similarities between her appearance a few weeks ago and now end. Her skin looks a bit paler, she looks as though she's lost weight. Her face has a wan sort of appearance: exhausted and more than just melancholy, it might be verging on depression. There's a palpable sense of wrongness, of taint, about her.

[Enid Geraint]
Of course it was yes. Amidst the packing for a trip, the constant reminders from her dad about passport, clean underwear, enough books, and so forth, Enid's quietly panicking. It's so close, and she hasn't heard from Ashley other than the text conversation a few days ago that ended with Enid telling the older girl to call or text if the younger was wanted or needed. That hadn't happened, of course, but Enid hadn't put a time limit on it, or attached any other strings. The offer was what it was - open ended and free.

So now, she's heading towards Ashley and Zane, and taking up a spot on Ashley's good side as if she's known this is the way it should be forever. Zane gets petted, loved as any dog would, though it's only a mediocre masking of Enid's fairly obvious concern.

"You . . . look like crap. I would have walked Zane for you, if you're sick." It's honest, matter of fact, and though she hasn't been protected, Enid doesn't look any worse for the wear - just a bit frazzled, flustered.

[Ashley McGowen]
"I'm not sick," Ashley says, settling into step with Enid on her good side. As though they've always walked this way. She's been out for a while, judging by the redness of her nose and ears, but almost seems to enjoy the wind. Or, at the very least, she seems to be trying to take joy in it. They aren't quite the same thing.

There's a silence as she looks sidelong at Enid, letting Zane tug his way down the sidewalk. She always lets him lead from the left, almost like a walking stick; if he moves, she knows that there's something over on that side.

Enid looks frazzled, tired, excited. It's different than she looked the last time Ashley saw her, when they were in a restaurant and she'd just made the acquaintance of her mother and all of her little mirrorshade friends. She notes that she should ask Enid about it. But she does owe her an explanation first. And a few warnings.

"We found Dylan and I tried to help him, and something went wrong. That's part of why I wanted to see you. There's a Marauder and a potential Nephandus running around the city, and I wanted to tell you what those are and make sure you stay safe."

[Enid Geraint]
".....what's a Marauder? And a Nephandus?" Though she can guess at both - she knows what the not capitalized versions of the words mean, after all, and from there can apply them to this new world full of Awakened and Enlightened and goodness knows what other oddity with reasonable accuracy. So, maybe it's expected when she adds, "Are they what they sound like? And which one is Dylan?"

There's quiet for a moment, but before Ashley has a chance to answer, she continues, just briefly. "I ran into him, in the park. I was out for a late run, bumped into Jarod," who she names in roughly the tones most teenagers through twenty-somethings reserve for 'douchebag' and 'asshole', "and saw this Dylan guy. He was hot." It's obvious that she means literally so, not figuratively.

[Ashley McGowen]
"Dylan's the Marauder. You ran into him in the park?" There it is, that sinking feeling. Guilt. Something she rarely feels or acknowledges.

No, in all likelihood her own mentor would not have protected Enid. But she's done a lot of things her mentor wouldn't have done, and Ashley recognizes how pointless it is to let the girl tackle challenges she isn't ready for. She supposes that it's just as important to teach an apprentice moderation and restraint as anything else.

It's part of being a responsible mentor. So she draws in a quick breath. "I'm sorry, Enid. I should have tried to warn you and educate you about them before this, as soon as I knew what he was."

[Enid Geraint]
"Yeah. Nothing happened - I mean, Jarod was all about stopping him and I tried to help," she says with a shrug, "but no one got hurt or anything. That Dylan guy actually looked better off, after - he was a mess when it started. Kage said something about him losing his name, and not being . . . oh, I don't remember how she put it. She makes me think of the old fairy tales about people who can only speak in riddles, sometimes. Anyway, something about the name being important."

Only when that's said, in a way that makes her wondering over the importance of a name clear, she shakes her head and shoots Ashley a look; it bugs her inordinately, seeing the older Hermetic so . . . off. "Hey, don't apologize. Stuff happens, and I'm fine. Everyone is, in fact."

[Ashley McGowen]
"Yes, but you might not have been. I did a disservice to you as a mentor." This last is stated firmly, in a manner that suggests that she doesn't want Enid to argue with her about it. "Regardless, I'm glad you're not hurt."

There's a pause then, while she stops for a few seconds so that Zane can sniff at a tree before giving him a gentle tug to encourage him along. "When a person loses his Name, he loses himself. Every person has a True Name - it might be their given name or it might not, though it's generally more complex. Dylan lost that when he lost his mind. There's nothing of him left."

"A Marauder has essentially lost touch with reality to the extent that reality...rejects them. Paradox doesn't really work. They're just totally outside it. He might not have hurt you, but he's very dangerous."

[Enid Geraint]
".....okay." And so Enid doesn't argue - the first bit is done. I'm glad you're not hurt gets a smile, and a very brief embrace in the form of Enid's arm snaking out around Ashley's shoulder. "Thanks. I'm glad I'm not too."

Then there's the rest, and contemplation of it; her brow furrows, and she speaks slowly, testing her words, but not stopping the speaking of them. "So . . . if reality rejects them and paradox doesn't work . . . it has to go somewhere, doesn't it? And if that somewhere can't be Dylan . . . oh." This doesn't appear to instill any fear, but maybe (maybe) it will instill a bit more caution, should she run into the man again. "Everyone says he's dangerous. Kage and Wharil say to turn around and go the other way as quickly as possible if I see him again. How do you get a Name? Is it something you're born with, or something you earn, or something completely different?"

[Ashley McGowen]
Enid squeezes an arm around Ashley's shoulders, and her shoulder gets a return pat from the older Hermetic. It's a step in the right direction, talking to this girl, as far as dealing with the death taint goes. Ashley will never have children of her own - this is almost a certainty - and this mentorship with Enid is probably the closest she will ever come to a parental relationship. Responsibility and affection are powerful anchors.

And she's sliding into lecture mode. "Exactly," she says dryly, as Enid puts two and two together and realizes where all of that Paradox goes. "He's dangerous because, for one thing, we can't predict him. We don't know when he's going to choose to be violent. Besides that, the Technocracy usually blames us for Marauders, and he's going to attract their attention."

"As for your Name, you have a given name, and after your formal induction you'll choose a Craft name. Something around which to form your new identity. Those and your accomplishments go together to make up your True Name, in part. It's a name that forms around the Word of power that encompasses you as a person. It describes you, and it -is- you, even if you don't know what it is in its entirety yet."

[Enid Geraint]
"I guess that explains Mom, then," she says wryly. It had all happened before her mother was gone, after all, and goodness only knows how much arguing there'd been over that little gem - but Enid won in the end, or so it seems. For now, anyway. But the rest is more interesting in this precise moment, and Enid ponders for a long moment, before saying, idly, "I wonder what my Word is."

Then, though, her brow furrows again and she remembers the other new word mentioned. "Nephandus. Who, and what?" It's short, to the point. Forewarned is forearmed, after all.

[Ashley McGowen]
"You'll figure out what your Word is," Ashley promises. "Before you leave for China, hopefully." She's never done this before, assisted another Hermetic in this part of self-discovery. Enid's Word and her True Name are, in the end, intensely personal things, things that Ashley is not going to attempt to discern beyond assisting Enid, but it's also unlikely that they'll just come to her on her own.

Enid asks about Nephandi then, and Ashley's pace slows a little. "They're magi that have sworn themselves over to destructive forces," she says, trying to think about how to explain them and their wrongness. "Like demons. Their Avatars have been permanently twisted. They're very dangerous. Much moreso than Marauders, I would say."

[Enid Geraint]
Enid slows as well, automatically keeps pace with her [friend] mentor, and nods as if what she'd already guessed has been confirmed - because it has, more or less. ".....why would someone want to do that? It doesn't make any sense." And then, even more curious, "There are demons? But . . . that means there are angels too, yeah?"

When they'd first met, or not long after, they'd talked a bit about religion; Enid had said her parents were atheistic, but that she thought there must be something out there even if she was unsure what. And so, this interests her in many ways, this whole Nephandi and demons thing.

"So there's one of these Nephandi guys in town, and I need to avoid him too," she says, more for confirmation's sake than anything else.

[Ashley McGowen]
"They do it for a lot of reasons. Nephandi are good at making it sound appealing, it's one of the reasons they're dangerous to us." Ashley has practically been indoctrinated in the dangers of Nephandic seduction. Johann Faust left a permanent black mark on her House hundreds of years ago. "They prey on weak-willed people. Or people that are willing to do anything to get something done."

She looks sidelong at Enid. "But yes, you need to avoid them. Though you might not know one when you see them, and that's why you should be cautious of people you don't know right now. If they seem strange to you or tainted in some way, you should come to one of the people you know."

She shifts Zane's leash to her other arm, looping it around her wrist so that she can tuck her (now very cold) hand into her pocket. "You'll learn ways of figuring out who they are soon."

[Enid Geraint]
"Okay," the younger girl says agreeably - so long as she's learning something, she doesn't mind how long it takes. She's got patience, and likes the road to a new bit of knowledge or what have you almost as much as she likes the new thing itself. Maybe more than, in some cases.

And, to the other bits, "I . . . don't really get it. I mean, I've read the Faust stories and know all the lyrics to Devil Went Down to Georgia, but . . . I don't know. I'm careless about a lot of stuff, but I don't think I would be about that. Would you?" A pause, and then, "Alright. I can't promise I'll turn around and go the other way quickly any more than I really can with Dylan, but I'll keep it in mind. And I'll be careful. And I'll be in China soon, so it may be a moot point - but I don't think I'm going to stay anywhere near as long as my mom thinks I will, even with Austin there. I think we're just going to be tourists and come back."

[Ashley McGowen]
Would she? Ashley has to consider this. The reaction of most people would be to say no, that they wouldn't care and no matter what they were promised they would not walk through a Caul. "I think I could resist temptation if something were offered to me, because I know that becoming a Nephandus is irreversible," Ashley says. Which, of course, doesn't mean that she wouldn't be tempted.

That's a dark train of thought, though, something she's been instructed to avoid because it's so easy to get wrapped up in right now, so she diverts. "Do you want to swear into the Order before or after you get back? It'll be an involved process, and there are things I want to teach you once it's done."

[Enid Geraint]
"I think . . . if there's stuff to be taught immediately following and it's an involved process, it may be better to wait until I get back. But if the process can be split up a bit, I think I'd like to make it formal."

Enid goes with the flow on this; Ashley knows what she needs, and Enid's content to follow her lead. A smile splits her face, pleased, and lights up her brown eyes - it's a look Ashley hasn't quite seen yet, and it fits better than most of the half-smiles and smirks she's seen instead.

"I'm pretty excited about it, actually."

[Ashley McGowen]
"I'd like to begin your instruction in the Code of Hermes," Ashley says, "which, I doubt, is going to take you very long. The rules are very straightforward and they aren't to be breached. If you're going to claim to be a member of the Order it's good that you know them before you run off without my supervision."

She looks sidelong at the girl, who is smiling that pleased smile that she saw when she made fire appear in her hands, or when she gave her the wand at Christmas. A corner of Ashley's mouth quirks. "Well, don't get too excited yet. I have a lot of reading material for you to take with you, on the history of the Traditions and the Order."

[Enid Geraint]
Hasn't seen often, then - regardless, yes, it's a pleased look. "Alright, then. And I'm hardly one to shy away from reading and research." This is amused - and goodness knows it's true. The first several times they'd met, there'd been research involved, or some sort of study. "So, what do we do? Before I gather the reading materials to pack, I mean."

There's that avid curiosity - not the sort that's likely to get Enid in much trouble, really, but the sort that drives her to look further into the things she doesn't understand than the average seventeen year old girl would. This is new and interesting - it's something she's never done before and doesn't know much about. Of course she has questions.

[Ashley McGowen]
"We study a lot, and I find out whether you have questions, and you memorize as much as you can as quickly as you can," Ashley says, amused. "There'll be other sorts of tests later, after you've become an Initiate, but for right now it's mainly education. And a lot of memorization and writing essays for me."

"I want you at my apartment daily from now on, except for when you're in China. Not for the entire day, but enough so that I can follow your progress. We'll also begin a more in-depth look at the Spheres." There was a point when young Hermetics were sent to one of three colleges, but that practice has more or less fallen by the wayside. It's simply too difficult these days to remove them.

Practices evolve, sometimes for the better. As they pass into a more crowded section of the Mile, Ashley adds, "It's getting late to start this now, but I'll expect you tomorrow."

[Enid Geraint]
"I'll be there, of course." Likely with cookies, or bread, or maybe yummy caffeinated beverages - or all of the above, depending on how much she does other than checking things off of her various lists in between now and when she's supposed to be at Ashley's. "See you then. And drink some hot tea and get some rest or something, won't you? Orange and clove, I think, is supposed to be good for depression and funk."

There's affectionate petting for Zane, during which Enid crouches down and allows him to lick her, and then she's rising again. "See you tomorrow, then."

[Ashley McGowen]
Ashley could probably use the bread and cookies, by the looks of it. She seems like she's visibly lost weight since Enid saw her last. The Hermetic reaches down to pat Zane's back, glances up at Enid, and just nods. "Give your new name some thought. It's going to be how you introduce yourself to others like us, so make sure it's one you like."

And, saying nothing about tea, depression or funks, "I'll see you tomorrow, Enid. Be careful on your way home."

[Enid Geraint]
"I will." No promise, though - Enid only makes those when she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she can keep them. And thus, the two Hermetics part ways for the night.

Strange Things Afoot

[Gregor]
Warp.

A word defined by distortion, discord, aberration. A crafting so obvious and vicious as to tear holes and portions from the flesh of rules and turn them to something unknown. Not something new or different, but wholly unfathomable. Shrouds of black, interspersed amid the wet snows that tumble from above, smith clouds of thick black and gray that shroud all view of the Moon and stars behind them. It was a dismal evening, one among several that the new year had brought with it. Some might consider it portentous while others, daunting and ominous. In truth, it was simply the lousy discomforts of January slashing the Lake's chill winds across the city; from it's most humble of ghettos, to it's staggering skyscrapers.

Frost licked the ground, tidy and even, forcing those who wander to watch their every step while the steady feather of fast fading snow, made of broad flakes of white that melted the moment they touched anything vaguely warmer then themselves, had begun to layer the ground in a blanket of obfuscation, to keep the ice patches, sheets and whole walkways hidden until it was far too late.

Within the streets of Lakeview, where coffee houses made their money on night's like these, sharing wondrous conversation and terribly over priced beverages with the rest of existence and the wealthy stayed inside their Condominiums, a man was out. His dress was that of rags, plucked from some bin of old clothing. A Tattered jacket, long at the waist, dangling in frayed ribbons, crusted with salt stains and damp with the evening's weather, fit over broad shoulders, while the height (6'2) was made all the more implacable by the storm of a Gait in his steps and the broad hood that hung and drooped, damp as well, over most of his features, barring one eye that stared out across the landscapes surrounding. Haunted. Regarding.

(Something broke the Barricade. Something tore the Night. Something reached, Gregor. Something reached and you are not sure why/Never sure why/Shut up!)

His movements were not in vain, senses leaping to the winds, scouring for that crawling sensation that had ratcheted his spine and sent him scurrying into the night hours ago. Hours ago, awash in paranoia and a steadily rising fear, for despite the disturbance and it's thrum of familiarity, the power behind it was something...beyond his ken. Beyond his abilities.

So desperation rose in his movements and something creeped in his wake. A Fear born of the unknown. Both in his goal and in his plan of action.

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
There aren't too many who possess the skill to detect the (echo [resonance] punishment [wrong] Working) disturbance that happened once at the apartment building of K. R. Jakes. Gregor is one of those who is capable. More than capable: able. What he's felt Working has drawn him, has called him, has ravelled him all up, and he's followed it, followed it, and now he knows exactly where It Happened. The traces are fading, now, and they'll be gone soon entirely; not yet, however. The way smoke lingers in the air in California during wildfire season and nobody knows if the fire is still on or how long it's been out or when it began. That's how it is, and clear air hasn't yet washed the skies clean -- something like that, perhaps. Subtle and hidden and...

Disturbance. Gregor's speciality.

The street isn't one of the rich streets and it isn't one o the poor streets. Borderland. Twilight of the Gods: that kind've place. It was once affluent, and there is a church [like a cathedral, to the uneducated eye; at least Episcopalian or Anglican if not Catholic] at the crossroads. The apartment buildings were -- for the most part -- once houses. The apartment building is one of the older buildings in Chicago, with all of the problems that may entail, and all of the benefits. It was a house once. There are two towers. There is a weather vane of black iron. There is a small yard, and a small gate, and a low stone wall on the left of the small gate. The 'yard' could be walked across in five steps. The trees outside are wintering, slumber, hushed, quiet, dark.

The door is shut, locked. And one needs a key to get inside, or other skills. That lock is not old. That lock gleams with a new age.

[Emily Littleton]
It is not the wound in the veil between worlds that draws Emily to this place on another cold, damp night. She is still ignorant, still sheltered from the violence their magics can do the the weave and waft of Reality... and the many lesser layers that keep Reality intact. She is unburdened by the heaviness of responsibility, the weight that must cling to Gregor's hyperacute awareness.

Emily's car is parked a little away from the apartment that Kage stays in. She looks down at some piece of paper once more, and then pushes open the door and steps out into the night. She is unaware of the man stalking his way toward the same location, just as she is unaware of why this place would lure him in.

She has tucked her hands into her pockets and bent her head down to keep the snow from her eyes. Emily is a plain girl, somewhat tall, somewhat thin. She pauses long enough to look at the church at the crossroads with something akin to wistfulness. But it is not bittersweet, and it is not fleeting.

She is an unassuming blot on the sidewalk to most. A little out of place, a little foreign-touched. To those with Awakened eyes, she is a somehow more. A bright spot against a bleak horizon. Untouched by a particular resonance but leaning slightly towards Reverence (Grace [Wonder]). She does not belong here, so near the wound in the Veil, at the seat of some deep disturbance. She is not here to investigate.

Emily looks away from the church, crosses the street, and heads for Kage's apartment with a purposeful stride.

[Gregor]
The Front Door:

A Lock shiny and new(ly installed?). A thick portal against intrusion to an aging and archaic structure, worth it's weight in sentimental, fictional and aesthetic appeal. A broad archway, gathers in shadows like comforting mothers and the slight hollow between threshold and the single concrete step that separates the yard from the proverbial 'Welcome Mat', houses a moving figure for Emily and perhaps, Others, to catch sight of upon arrival: His hands are gloved, shrouded in sleeves from an old sweater, long since lost to decades past. His garmentry is mostly tattered and stained by prolonged wear and his demeanour, movements, air and sway are all reeking of one obvious and physical word:

Desperate.

He stands by the door, running gloved hands (something glimmers, reflecting light) over the surface of the door, the border around it. The archway itself, his body turning briefly to catch the edge of the street lamps that cast their light close enough to the yard and door, to illuminate him some (gruff, frazzled features, wane cheeks, quiet age lines, threatened black eyes) before a hand moves out, shades of the 'porch' eclipsing him again, to gather a hand around the door knob. He twists, once, hard, pressuring the knob to move-

Someone, SomeoneSomeoneSOMEONE/Gregor!

He turned sharply, still in the dark, an outline regarding the street across which Emily walks. His hands reach out toward the stone wall that stands to the right, while eyes dart around inside the hood, head following in quick, furtive movements, as if he might gauge just how far it would be to walk/run/leap back into the safety and obscurity of the anonymous (Too late Too LateToolateToolateToolate)

"...Who are you?" Strong. Bold. Cast still in the shadow of the archway, a wraith of solidity rather then a man of desperation. He stares, with unseen (yet) eyes upon the slender form of Emily, regarding her...Grace and...

(Wonders never cease. Never fail. Never fall/Lies/Hush)

Softer. Quieter this time. "Who...are you?"

[Gregor]
(Perception + Awareness: Let's see just how many Resonances we can pick up and separate?)

[Enid Geraint]
[Strange things happen when you're not around (Per+Aware)]

[Emily Littleton]
He is solid, staid and stoic with a booming voice and body placed across her path. He looms like a Gatekeeper, a Warden, and Emily averts her downcast eyes from the pavement to let them slowly sweep up his rag-swaddled frame, to come to rest on the dark unseen space inside his hood where she imagines his eyes were seated.

"Excuse me," she says, politely, and the words are gilded with the promise of far away places. He cannot place the location that has shaped it, because it is muddied and blurred by too many influences. It is a little clipped (worn [weary]) tonight, as she has some place to be, someplace to go that is beyond Gregor.

"Ah... I'm Emily," she offers, without much hesitation. Her eyes are a deep blue, so much so that they are merely dark in the low light of the evening. "Might I get past you?" she asks, pointing to a box behind him, near the door. "I need to ring my friend's flat, to tell her I'm here."

Who are you? He asks, and Emily answers the surface query alone. Perhaps it is impertinence. Perhaps also she is too new to know what the Gatekeeper wants when his shadow looms large across her path.

[Jonathan Kincade]
Jon had arranged to meet up with a prospective client earlier in the evening. Apparently she was having problems with an online shopping site she was developing. So Janet Thomas had found Jon's details for his freelance business and given him a call. He had been quite surprised when he turned up, finding Janet's mailbox position next to another name he new K. Jakes, he made a note to check in later.

He had arrived much earlier in the evening, but now he found himself walking down the hallway to the front door of the apartment complex. Headed to his car to retrieve an extra network cable as Janet didn't have a wireless network setup in her home office.

His hand reaching for the door as he unlocks it from the inside and opens the door to the bleak winter environment outside. Stepping forward he nearly walks straight into a strange man, who was currently looking intently at someone.. perhaps too intently. Something so odd about him it was chilling.

[Per + Awa - 4d6]

[Enid Geraint]
".....I got tickets to see Blue Man Group," she explains as they approach the coffee shop, unreasonably excited about this, but still suddenly distracted; something [wicked this way comes] is going on, and she's looking around. It's enough that she's walked past the door of the deli/cafe for which they were aiming (soup and a sandwich are the perfect dinner for a night like tonight); whatever she'd thought she was aiming for is completely forgotten as she feels a very familiar thrum of home, and way too many other strange things to properly put her finger on. She stops just short of stepping off of the curb into traffic, blinking and shaking her head.

"Um. The theatre's just a few blocks from here. And . . . there's Emily." She glances over at him - they've been walking, and though they're clearly together there's not so much as a held hand between them. Friends, then, or . . . something. Whatever. "Want to say hi?"

[Gregor]
"...What-" A pause.

The figure in the shade, steps forward, the street lights lining the sidewalk illuminating some of his framework, tearing down the wraithly aspects and leaving behind a Man: Tall. Broad still. Sharp features, scruffy with growth. Worn eyes, lines beneath them used to being that way. His hands are gloved, fingerless at the tips and possessing of the strangest of adornments; mirrors, stitched into the tops of the palms, reflecting the world back at itself. An old L.A Raiders sweater and a pair of black jeans, fraying-

"...Which friend-" An odd question, one of a tumbling few in his mind that was not exactly the right one to ask. Interrupted, as the front door of the complex springs open and a man steps forward, to meet Gregor's sudden whirling presence to regard him in the Threshold of the Door. Those eyes and that sudden attentiveness, bloom-

Creeping. Like the indistinct things on the edge of your peripheral, shades, objects indescribable, were inching forward. Never when you looked upon them directly, but always at the corner of the eye. Like some clandestine thing. Forward on the edge of sight. Stop and vanish when you look right, only for something on the left to begin to do it as well Creeping.

He stares at Jon in the doorway-

"-Who-" Then around again toward Emily, leveling a finger at her with a firm sort of "-You're not norm-" And back around at Jon.

"What is this?" Confusion writes itself in the falling snow tonight.

[Austin Conway]
[Per+Aware]

[Emily Littleton]
She took a step back while he whirled in the archway like a dervish, as if he'd been trapped in some mystical alignment of threshholds and passers-by and was now kept, confined, until someone gave way.

"Evening," she says, politely, to the man who is coming out of the door. It is a nice counterpart to the Inquisitor between them. Emily only barely remembers Jon, and it will take more than a half-lit glimpse of his face to rekindle that memory.

When Gregor takes a closer look at her, She Who Is Not Normal, he can feel the steady thrum of something along her skin, pulsing like a second heartbeat. It lives in a small ovoid on a thin chain, a bauble that beats out the comfort, surety of Home. It is hidden now, obscured by her sweater and the winter coat, but its presence is undeniable. It is stronger than the Reverence of her, which is bright but fleeting.

She is not as dismayed as Gregor by the traffic jam in the walkway. To Emily, this is but coincidence with a side of poor timing.

[Austin Conway]
They needed to talk. Lately it seemed as if life just didn't want the two Awakened teenagers to have any alone time. Every time they ran into each other, whether deliberately or by mistake, it seemed there was always distractions. Parents, friends... technocrats. Martial Arts or Chinese lessons. They saw each other, sure, but... it was a little too easy to fall into the habit of normalcy. To talk and behave like every other teenager out there, when the reality was that they were anything but.

Likely this bothered Austin more than it did Enid. He'd been awakened longer. His life turned upside-down enough times to shake him free from any real lingering expectation of a mundane existence. Still, he seemed comfortable enough as he walked down the sidewalk with Enid, listening to the pleasant murmur of her voice as she talked. Of the two of them, she was more prone to being talkative. Austin... was content to absorb.

He blinked and looked up when Enid stopped and redirected their attention across the street, to where two strangers stood. Then he shrugged beneath the layers of his winter clothes and responded good-naturedly, "Sure."

As the two of them changed directions to approach Emily and Gregor, Austin frowned slightly and glanced between them before leaning in to whisper to Enid... "Do you know the other one? They both feel.. awakened, to me."

If anyone bothered to pay close enough attention, they might notice the same about him. His resonance was muted, at the moment. Just a gentle glow of balanced, stable energy. He felt solid. Powerful. Like a soldier on reserve, but ready at any moment to jump into action.

[Jonathan Kincade]
Jonathan raises an eyebrow at the half asked question "Who...?" the strange mans resonance a faint trail that Jon could only just following, that creeping sensation making him ill at ease.

Jonathan remained in the door, dressed professionally. Trousers and a shirt and tie covered by a formal jacket. The man almost screamed refined a man obviously who cared about the image he presented to the world. Neat.. tidy..organised.. professional. But just under the surface there was something else, a sense of a man who aimed to build things to shape and create ...to be constructive

Then a second question "what is what?" as his eyes then switch to Emily, recognising her after a few moments with a polite nod of his head.

[Emily Littleton]
(( ... Fate? Again? My, you throw such interesting parties. Per + Aware, dif 6 ... ))

[Gregor]
"...Are you here to...?"

And his eyes lift, up, up-...stepping aside of the porch to cast a gaze up at the former House's upper floor. Across the windows, over the towers and beyond. His attention is split in so many directions that Austin and Enid's approach bare little to no obvious reaction. Instead, there is simply a distinction between who is before him and what he was originally here to do, which takes sudden precedence.

"Nevermind. Hold-" A quick jump down to look at Jon again. "-Sorry to have interrupted you. I didn't...didn't mean to make a problem." He's moving now, turning his head briefly to snap a quick and apologetic nod toward Emily, before he crosses the front yard of the complex toward the opposite side, where a fence is ready to be scaled (or stepped over). Back turned, he leans forward, breathing hotly over the surface of the mirror on the back of his left hand.

(Spirit 1: Sense Lingering Magics/Spirit Disturbances around or in the House. Foci: Mirror. Diff 4 -1 for Foci.)

[Enid Geraint]
"I know - well, I only really know Emily, and that's more acquaintance than friend. But the younger looking of the old guys is . . . Joe, I think? Something like that, anyway. I bumped into him at a coffee shop a while ago. Emily's nice."

There's waiting, then, for the walk signal, and she bumps his hip lightly with hers. "We'll go somewhere quiet after we say hi."

Then it's their turn to go, and she steps off, headed across the street. When the get close (and my, is Enid a contradiction in terms - she feels most strongly of things automatic and convincing, but there is more. So light, just flickers, of withering and growth. Regardless, there's a girl smiling, even if her eyes aren't quite as cheerful as her lips, her tone.

"Hi, Emily. And . . . Joe? And I don't know you." The last is looking at Gregor, of course. "In the interest of saving time, I'm Enid." Austin, though, she lets introduce himself if he wants to.

[Gregor]
(Addendum...)

...Gregor would offer Enid and Austin a glance, the introduction given a wary, even confused sort of dismissal, before the towering man is moving across the yard, toward the side of the house.

[Emily Littleton]
Wharil had entreated them earlier that same day to use their senses keenly, to be Aware of things that seemed a little less plausible, and so when Emily reached... she found the resonance of the convocation flooding over her in a nauseating play of conflicting flavors. She stepped off the path to the doorway, out of Jon's way, looking faintly unfocused for a moment.

And of course, it is that moment when Enid approaches from the rear, adding her own cacophany of scents, tastes and tactile impressions to the milieu. It is too much for the little Orphan to sort through, but she is keenly Aware that there are Things Afoot. All the more reason to the doorstep and ring Kage's buzzer sooner rather than later. Maybe the angel with the coldfire hair -- as someone had recently described the other Orphan -- could help make sense of this all.

"Enid!" Emily seemed more than slightly surprised to see her there, and she was sluggish to smile warmly in reply. But the warmth got there, eventually, and it was enough to welcome both her and Austin. She doesn't presume him into their circle, doesn't start off with a Well you must be... "Ah, Happy Evening," she says, somewhat at loss for the proper social pleasntries in such a large, unplanned gathering.

[Austin Conway]
On the whole, Austin's focus was trained mostly on Gregor, for the pure and simple fact that Gregor was acting oddly. He turned his head and kept his gaze on the stranger for a long moment as Gregor moved away, before gray eyes flickered back to Emily and Jon, and he nodded once, absently, and smiled in a manner that seemed distracted but honest enough.

"Hey, I'm Austin. It's nice to meet you."

Never say that a good Akashic boy wasn't polite. Still, there were other things on his mind than meet-and-greets, and he asked the group at large, "Does anyone know what's going on? That guy seems... like he's looking for something."

[Gregor]
"...Kage." A harsh whisper.

He'd gotten to the fence leading around to the side of the house, one gloved hand on the top, while the other is hovering infront of him, palm out and the tiny shard of mirror visible on the front, facing toward him. His eyes are wide and slightly wild as the hand drops away to his side again, gaze scanning and darting across the upper floors of the building. Brief, calculating, fierce almost..

...Then he's moving, turning to walk a direct line toward the front door of the apartment, hands gripped into loose fists and jaw clinging to a sort of stern normally reserved for convicts and authority. He side steps broad puddle, frozen over top and looks to not be too concerned with stopping at the door. In, up and up...

[Enid Geraint]
[I can['t] hear a word you're sayin' [Per+Alert])

[Emily Littleton]
(( ... What was that? Per + Alert, dif 6 ... ))

[Emily Littleton]
She had been halfway through a pleasantry with Austin and Enid when Emily stops speaking, her shoulders square slighlty and she turns her attention overtly to Gregor. She doesn't let her gaze linger for long before saying, abruptly, "Excuse me?"

It was a question, but she stepped away from the duo before either answered. Emily fished her cellphone out of her pocket and pressed a few buttons as Gregor entered the building. She was calling the other Orphan, because no one should be surprised by a strange man on their doorstep. Emily looked worried, openly anxious, while she listened to the phone ring.

[Austin Conway]
[Let's get on that bandwagon... Per+Alert]

[Owen]
St James Cathedral isn't so far from where all the action is taking place. As a matter of fact, it's across the street and down some from the little impromptu gathering of folk. One of the oldest and indeed, the original Episcopal Diocese of Chicago it was an impressive structure even now, over a hundred years on. Except that these days, no matter how impressive or old and seeped in history a place was --

it still needed maintenance carried out on it.
It still needed weeding done to the flower beds before they were choked out of existence.

Which might explain the presence of a figure in the Church grounds at such a late hour, wheeling a wheelbarrow around to the front yard, stinking to high heaven [he didn't mean that, it was just a pun you realize] of manure and setting it before cast iron gates; painted green to match the lawn; though the paint was beginning to peel off, licks of it around the gate hinges and handle the most dire in need of aid.

The figure itself was harder to pin-point; it appeared to be masculine, simply from its outline; tall, broad-shouldered, pants and shirt. Whatever Whoever the yard-boy was; he seemed, on occasion to be drawn from his work long enough to approach the gate and stare in the little congregation's direction from time to time.

Not long enough to be truly unnerving [though he was] but enough to make anyone wonder if they were being observed by a member of the Church for some reason beyond curiosity. The attention never lasted long though, before the figure was back, in the blink of an eye, bent on his knees, pulling out weeds from lawn-beds.

[Jonathan Kincade]
Jonathan had been watching Gregor with a curious expression.. intrigued to find out what the man was looking for. But then he is distracted by a greeting, the young face of Enid finding it's way into his vision. "HI Enid.. and it's Jon.. Jonathan actually." a smile on his face shows his isn't that annoyed by the mistake, he's just correcting her.

Turning back to Gregor to see the man heading back inside. Jonathan had no real link to the other mages present..the male with Enid was an unknown to him. So Jon follows shrugs and heads in up behind Gregor the Creepy.

[Owen]
[Sneaking around the Church. Dex + Stealth to counter any Percept + Alert rolls]

[Owen]
[Er, wait. Wrong dice tally there. ^_^]

[Enid Geraint]
(HAI HAI HAI, YOU WANT TO HIDE, HAI [Per+Alert])

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
Kage's apartment is up the stairs, not on the first floor. And the door is closed. Jon likely passed it by earlier. The stairs are just as old as everything else is, and they crack, pop, make eerie noises if you don't know where to step. It's just one of those places.

And the door to Kage's apartment? Is closed, locked, not open for business.

And inside Kage's apartment, Kage is in her bedroom, getting dressed to go out with Emily. Her bed is covered in different clothes, although most of them have become heaped in one corner, labelled 'I should do my laundry.' She is also on the phone already. The conversation she is having goes something like this:

"Noooooooooo, Margot. I'm not afraid. I just don't want to go and see it." ... "Oh. I do have a reason; this place is too small for all of my books." ... "Well, I may decide not to break my lease, in the end. We'll see. I may have reacted hastily." ... "Ha, ha. Oh, wait a second. Someone's calling my cell."

Which is when Emily gets a: "Hello?"

[Emily Littleton]
"Kage?" Emily says, and there is a note of urgency in her voice. "It's Emily... Look, I'm downstairs, actually there's a group of us down here, odd, but some strange man just said your name and bounded into the building. I just wanted to warn you."

Emily spoke quickly, and the words tumbled over one another. She hadn't had a chance to think them through. They are tight, given the past few nights, and her concern (worry [fear]) comes through clearly enough.

[Gregor]
Gregor's approach is not a quiet one. He moves through the doorway with an evident boldness, not rushed or even hurried like some struck dumb child. The Age under his eyes and the certainty of the situation, makes him firm as he scales the stairs, hand on rail, creaks, pops and cracks of noise erupting throughout the hallways on the first floor and bouncing into those of the second. It's only as he reaches the eighth in sequence that he hears the flash of another on the stairs behind him.

Paranoia and caution turn his head around and then half his body to regard Jon on the stairs with a furrowed brow and a distracted, if displeased countenance.

"...What are you doing?" It isn't intimidating, but it is not hard to see the ardent nervousness other people might find in him. Disheveled, tall and dark eyed. A directness born of struggle and honesty painted in the careful. A beat and Gregor, recalls, or seems to, eyes flickering into a narrow briefly, before realization dawns.

"Sorry you were...in here before..." (Great/Challenging Wrong/Not Now. Never-/Focus/Focus) And he's scaling the stairs again, slower on his way to the top, turning away from Jon with a troubled sort of grimace on his face, as if he wanted nothing more then to forget that brief pause and moment and continue on his way. Which he does, ascending to the top quickly enough.

[Enid Geraint]
Something moves down the way and Enid, who is on high alert, watches for a moment. It's just shadows (Who screws around on a church's grounds in the freezing cold at night, anyway? [Who stands around outside a random apartment building in the freezing . . .] This is Kage's building?) and so her attention is pulled back to the scene at hand in time to hear Emily speaking to Kage.

"Um . . ." Enid is not worried. She seldom worries for herself, honestly, and the guy she doesn't know moved with ease and confidence. He wasn't trying to sneak. Maybe he knows someone inside, or . . . something. She is, however, quite intrigued. This is the girl who gave up on Agatha Christie at twelve because she could figure out the answers by the end of the third chapter. ".....what's going on?"

[Jonathan Kincade]
Jonathan shrugs "I'm following you and seeing what your upto." taking another step up there stairs "Also I realised earlier this evening an acquaintance of mine actually lives in this apartment complex. I thought I might go drop by now before it got too late." and then the man has turned away from him once more and is heading back up the stairs.

So Jonathan continues what he intended and follows behind him.

[Owen]
It's below freezing outside.

And yet, someone has been busy at work. Even if nobody can be seen to be at work, the garden beds all get slowly weeded free of snow-flecked growth, and the ground, hard as rock in the cold weather is still stubbornly, slowly, turned over as if the perpetrator could only be stopped by force before they were done. It's hard work -- it seems almost work fit for a punishment of some kind, passed down from [nowhere near] on high.

And Cain said unto the Lord, My punishment is greater than I can bear.

For some, nothing can be great enough.

Enid sees -- what? Her imagination playing tricks on her? A flicker? A moment of doubt that makes her want to squint, or blink or... something. But it passes; the black shadowy blur darts out of sight and its as if nothing at all had taken place.

Don't be silly.

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
"A group of ..." Kage's eyebrows draw together, and a shadow passes across her features; her expression distances, even though there's noone there to see it. Aloof, still. That she can manage this while pulling on a sock, disgustedly noting that it is not the sock she meant to pull on, with her landline's phone tucked under one ear and her cellphone held to the other is a feat of magic that has little to do with Will. "Ah. A strange man, of course. Why of course." A brief pause, and then, "Wai - Noooooo, Margot. I am not entertaining a tall, dark, handsome stran -- look, hold on, will you? I need to get dressed." And Kage drops the landline's receiver onto her bed, then pushes it off the bed feelingly. It clatters, but not as loudly as it might have, were it not nested safely in a dress and a sweater. Now her attention is for Emily alone.

Not alone. Her attention is also for -- what the hell is this 'us'? "What did he look like?"

[Gregor]
He freezes at the top of the stairs, inadvertently blocking Jon's own path, turning once more, this time fully, to regard the man, the look on his face a cloud of consideration and displeasure.

"Really think you need to get back to what you were doing but..." And the eyes narrow further. "...What friend?" Suspicion moving to dread clarity.

[Jonathan Kincade]
Jonathan responds to the question, ignoring the mans displeasure for the most part "Oh I will eventually. My friend? my friends name is Kage, why do you know her."a look as he studies the mains fast waiting to see his reaction.

[Jonathan Kincade]
((studies the mans face even))

[Emily Littleton]
"I don't know, Enid," Emily said, while Kage juggled the conversations, socks and dirty laundry in an apartment above the gathering group. Emily is a little short with the other girl, but she doesn't mean to be. It's an efficient sort of short, not a curt or irritated brevity. And Kage, at least, has one other name to add into the us she has just heard about.

Emily describes Gregor, mostly by what he is wearing, also by some generic adjectives like tall and broad. She shies away from saying he feels Creepy, because she does not yet trust her Awareness the way she trusts her physical senses. "Maybe it's nothing," she adds, half heartedly. Though Emily clearly doesn't think of it this way, there is always the chance that she has over-reacted.

Down on the frozen ground, Emily is chewing on her lip and just now turning a portion of her attention back to Enid and Austin. Sorry, she mouths at the younger girl. Austin gets a vaguely apologetic (distracted [anxious]) look. On another night, or in another week, she would have been so happy to meet him. Happy to see him and Enid together. Emily takes a moment and actively tries to let that warmth shine through whatever else is on her mind, but it's fleeting and she looks away to the windows of the apartments above them soonthereafter.

Something is a afoot, and the Orphan is uneasy about it.

[Gregor]
"Yes. I..." A pause. A frown. "...I know her." As if that was as far as he was willing to take it.

Clarity comes and with though, the resolve of the resigned. The displeasure wastes away to leave behind a furrowed brow and a slight shake of his head, slight enough to not be a conscious gesture.

"You're one of her Pennies, then." An odd remark, he moves from the top of the stairs, gaze traveling to the doorway behind which stands his goal, though just what specifically is not an obvious thing. "I stand by my prior statement. You really should just let this go and go on your business. Other business." He stands just off to the right of the door itself, features studying the portal as if it could glean some sort of information in and of itself. Then toward the wall beside it and in front of him. His mouth hangs open slightly, breathing low and shallow.

[Austin Conway]
Enid asked what was going on, and Austin turned to her and shrugged, honestly. "I have no idea. Want to check it out? Maybe you could ask your friend to let us up?"

By this, of course, he meant whoever it was that Emily was on the phone with.

[Enid Geraint]
It's cold outside. Enid is dressed to go from apartment to car to theatre to deli/cafe to car, but not for prolonged stays outside. She shivers, just lightly, then does reach for Austin's hand. It's brief, that touch, and its aim is unclear - but Enid is uncomfortable, off balance, and the bit of contact helps minutely. Then he's asking if Kage will buzz them up.

She shakes her head - negation.
She shrugs - uncertainty.

"We're . . . not that close. I dunno. I guess we'll see what she says to Emily, yeah? I didn't know this was her building until Em called her."

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
"I -- hm." A brief pause, because Kage has chosen a shirt and sweater at random and tugged them both over her head, soft, quiet, hushed inside that clothing. Her voice sounds clearer after the deed is done, decisive. "And the strange man was one of 'us', hm?" A final question, from the way Kage phrases it.

[Emily Littleton]
"No," Emily says at first. "I'm standing here with Enid and Austin--they happened by." She looks over at them as she speaks their names, then chews on the inside corner of her lip a little more.

"But he is... Damnit, Kage, I don't even know how to talk about these things. He feels different, like you, Jarod, Enid..." Emily presses her eyes shut and lifts her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration. "But I don't know what that means, not really." Emily leaves it at that. Lets it go at that. She is worried for her friend, and unable to express herself clearly enough. And it seems more and more certain that they will not make it out the Court this evening, which is upsetting.

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
"It means -- " A pause. Now is not the time to explain the way the world works, Kage. "That I'll be down in a moment. I just need to put on shoes. Thank you for calling to warn me; I'll see you! Tell Enid I say hello." A brief pause. "And Austin, as well. He's the boy?" And then, click.

[Emily Littleton]
Kage hangs up, so Emily hangs up, and she slides the cellphone back into her pocket. It's awkward now, having so abruptly stepped away from the meet and greet to make a tense phone call, but Emily makes her way back to the couple (duo [pair]).

"Sorry about that," she says, as if it were a necessary intrusion. Not just her own anxiety getting the better of her. Not something strange happening here, inconveniently near where Emily had chosen to be. "Kage's on her way down. She says Hello."

She is unsettled, but the smile has tentatively returned. "Where are you two off to?" she asks of Austin and Enid.

[Enid Geraint]
"I got tickets for Blue Man Group." It sounds ridiculous now, when just a bit ago she'd been so pleased - she will be again, but for the moment, concern wars with a Need to Do Something. Kage is on her way down, Emily said, and so Enid shrugs and stays where she is, shoves her hands into her pockets, and shrugs. "And we were going to have dinner at Murches."

She nods at the deli/cafe back across the street. "And then I saw you, so I thought we'd say hi." She doesn't need to say that this is one for her blue Cubs notebook, a match to Emily's red of the same - both girls know that. It's a given, maybe, that when so many mages converge in one place that it's going to get written down in the book - not because of the convergence itself, necessarily, but because other Weird Shit (almost) always happens when they're all together. Cats and dogs sleeping together . . . it's madness. "What about you?"

[Gregor]
Gregor takes a tentative step forward, sliding into place only a few inches from Kage's door, gaze slightly downcast. His breath is still shallow and his attention somewhat scattered. A myriad of thoughts and possibilities, written in the edge of his vision. A quick check over of the framework, dusting down clothes as if they could make a difference in the vague stains of salt, running uneven ribbons around pants and the tattered jacket. A grunt of displeased that wraps itself around his tongue and keeps him from voicing something unpleasant.

A half-step back from the door (Don't crowd) and then his gaze lifts, eyes...lost on something unseen. Something beyond the door-

Knocking. The sound too loud if his vague wince is any indication, the first two a thrum, the third, a gentler something.

"...Kage it's..." A pause, eyes squeezing shut, once more a quiet curse under his breath, inaudible. "...It's Gregor." Defeat and resolve.

[Emily Littleton]
"We were going to grab a bite and ..." Emily's voice hitches slightly, "Catch up. Something quiet," she says, with a raised eyebrow and a faint chuckle (You see how well that turned out.)

"I hope you two enjoy the show," she added. And the warmth returned to Emily's expression slowly, by degrees. "It's nice to meet you, Austin," she said, belatedly. "I hear you're Enid's Tai Chi instructor?"

She splits her attention between waiting on the front door to open, and trying to salvage her social graces. Austin is, naturally, a point of interest. But Emily stops short of anything quite so blantant as telling him how much Enid has talked about him lately.

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
K. R. Jakes truly did consider leaving by the back entrance. The apartment building did not have a back entrance, but in a pinch, the window would do. Kage has done it before; it isn't easy. It certainly isn't easy in this kind of weather, where there is frost and ice to worry about, slipping away your footsteps, determining your road into a downward spiral that ends in blood and bone and endings. But she considered it. She considered, at very least, climbing across the way, into Janet's apartment. It isn't because she doesn't love her fellow Willworkers, but rather because she hates it when they show up at her apartment, that she views them as something of bad luck lately, that she can't think of any strange magi who matches Emily's description she would be overjoyed to speak with at the moment, even if they weren't somehow going to cause her trouble. So, the back entrance, then. The cautious option is not the option she decides to take. It rarely is.

So, instead, Gregor. He says his name, and she is opening the door as he does. And there he is. Kage's eyebrows draw together, again, and she looks at him (cautiously [thoughtfully] carefully). "... Hello. Oh." One would think she would relax, a little. She knows Gregor, and that's all right. However: "... How... Do you know I live here? And ...why are you here?"

[Austin Conway]
If Emily had asked Austin whether or not he'd had some strong desire to see Blue Man Group, or even, in fact, if he'd known anything at all about them besides the fact that they painted themselves blue, he'd be forced to admit that he... didn't. But ultimately that didn't matter, because no one had asked, and being around Enid (regardless of what they were doing) was its own kind of reward. She probably didn't realize, entirely... just how much he needed those little moments of relaxed normalcy.

So when Emily told them she hoped they'd enjoy the show, he shrugged noncommittally, but smiled. He had a nice smile. Not the dazzling, beautiful expression that it might be on someone like, say, Jarod Nightingale. But it was warm and honest and very... boy-next-door.

"Yeah, we worked out a swap, of sorts. I teach her martial arts and she teaches me Chinese. I gotta admit, she's a better student than I am, I think."

[Gregor]
How...Do you know I live here-

He doesn't seem to be paying attention. Not at first. His eyes and head have lifted to regard the interior of K(C)age's apartment, the stern, wary drain of his features already waxing toward that desperation that had him clinging to something in his gut. In his mind. In his imaginings (Easy/Fear/I said Easy/Fear, Gregor/Damn it, Stop-/Stronger then you, this Fear, Stronger/-it! Now!).

It takes the you in her sentence to bring Gregor's attention down to Jake's features, brow and face crushing into a grimace as the situation turns toward the awkward. The strange. Potentially Creep(ing)y.

"...I'm..." Not quite sure? Uncertain? Discombobulated? Distracted. "...I followed something. Something that..." His eyes keep flicking up and over her shoulder, the nerves under his skin making themselves honest in his features, twisting the cords of his neck into the tightening of his jaws. All at once he snaps his attention down toward her.

"...Was it you?" Something intense. Almost accusatory, Al...most. "Was it you that-" A gloved hand lifts, limp and stuck for a proper gesture to offer, before falling away impotently "...Did you-...put the Hole there?" Fallen to a whisper now, creased with agitation and- "Can you do that?" - desperation.

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
"No."

Kage's expression changes once, twice, three times. Once: disturbed; heated, angry. She was a passionate creature, even if she held herself well, was usually composed. Twice: worried, what, something here now. Thrice: resigned, and we're back to cautious.

"And no, I can't do that. That was someone else." Kage watches the (she thinks) other Orphan for a moment, staying in the doorway, not inviting him in, not inviting eyes in, either. Not that this has worked for her in the past. "Someone dangerous, Gregor, someone who's walking around Chicago now... So you should be careful. And," she is frowning, slightly. "I'm late ... I'm supposed to go out tonight. You should... if you want to talk, you can come in and settle up on the couch, or ..."

She doesn't think he has a phone. "We can meet up in Chinatown again."

[Enid Geraint]
"I spent a long time learning how to be a good student. Some of it only applies to school and books. Some of it doesn't," she says with a shrug, and glances up - not at any specific window, because she doesn't know which one, but just . . . up. And then her attention moves back to Emily, and her stomach rumbles just as she shivers again. "And . . . I didn't dress well for hanging around outside."

She's dressed like all the other teenage girls under her peacoat (quite possibly part of her school uniform, before she'd finished, and worn in and comfortable and flattering enough that she keeps wearing it) - a tunic length cowl neck sweater and a pair of leggings with some nice, very slightly heeled boots do not a comfortable Enid make.

"Are you okay, d'you think, if we head back to the deli? We'll be close, and you have my number if you need it."

[Gregor]
"-Chinatown."

He's looking over her shoulder but...backing away as well, the look on his face telling all Kage needs to know of just what part of her words he Heard: Someone else. Someone dangerous. In Chicago. Walking around..

"-We'll meet again. Yeah." Nodding, dispassionately, unevenly. Lopsided. Disconnected. "...I'll...I'll meet you at the..." A beat, bringing his mind back to the moment for a second. "I'll meet you at the Hot chocolate shop again." Not a mention of time. Not a mention of day. Just...at some point. His brow furrows and his body turns, moving toward the stairwell, a grim scowl on his features, a hurry in his step that wasn't there before. Down the steps. Toward the door. Out, out...away from the waiting bodies who might look and watch. Away from any voices that might be searching him out.

There was something. Someone. Who could do that?

[i]Fear/Fearing now?/Yeah, Yeah I am

[Gregor]
"-Chinatown."

He's looking over her shoulder but...backing away as well, the look on his face telling all Kage needs to know of just what part of her words he Heard: Someone else. Someone dangerous. In Chicago. Walking around..

"-We'll meet again. Yeah." Nodding, dispassionately, unevenly. Lopsided. Disconnected. "...I'll...I'll meet you at the..." A beat, bringing his mind back to the moment for a second. "I'll meet you at the Hot chocolate shop again." Not a mention of time. Not a mention of day. Just...at some point. His brow furrows and his body turns, moving toward the stairwell, a grim scowl on his features, a hurry in his step that wasn't there before. Down the steps. Toward the door. Out, out...away from the waiting bodies who might look and watch. Away from any voices that might be searching him out.

There was something. Someone. Who could do that?

Fear/Fearing now?/Yeah, Yeah I am

[Emily Littleton]
"Have a great dinner," Emily said, nodding a little as Enid started to slip away. She'd put her hands back into her coat pockets and was letting them warm up again. It was cold enough that Emily, in her winter coat, swayed a little to keep the muscles in her legs loose. "And we should go running again sometime. It was nice."

As they made their way toward the deli, Emily glanced back at the door to Kage's apartment building. She chewed on the inside of her lip and wondered if waiting was truly the best course of action at this point. Barging in was definitely not any better, though, so waiting it was. Even if she was starting to feel like an obnoxious lawn gnome or other out-of-place decoration.

[Apartment of K. R. Jakes]
Gregor leaves. Outside, Enid and Austin return to the deli. Jon, well. He's been indecisively in the stairwell for who knows how long. And Kage? Kage takes a step back into her apartment, and shuts the door again. This is only for long enough to ( just move ! put up the damned wards!) put on her boots, to grab her bag. To remember Margot, on the phone, and to remember to hang it up. Then she also leaves -- not via the window, but down the stairs, hood up, hat on, until she's outside where it's cold as clarity, where heat is made elemental, and there is Emily, all alone, chewing her lip.

"I'm sorry about that. Let's go," she says. "I'm famished."

ooc: and I'm posting out, y'all! THANK YOU! Apartment building stays. Do with it what you will! *waves magic hands*

[Austin Conway]
"Oh, you two run together? Maybe I can join you guys some day." Unless, of course, it was a girls-only kind of thing. Women seemed to like their alone time that way, and he wasn't about to make himself a nuisance if he wasn't wanted. "Anyway, we need to take off I guess so... it was nice meeting you."

He smiled one last time and nodded in Emily's direction before turning and following Enid in the direction they'd been headed earlier. At some point, he surreptitiously slid his arm around her own, hooking their elbows together.

[Enid Geraint]
"Of course. We only just started, really - but yeah, give me a call, Em. I run every day but Saturday, mostly at around the same time unless there's something going on. So, I'll see you later. And tell Kage to call me? Or I'll call her, if she doesn't."

To make sure she's okay, of course. Just because Enid doesn't worry about herself doesn't mean she doesn't worry about other people.

And so they're heading away, Austin and Enid are, for their dinner together - to the quiet deli, quieter now than it had been when Enid had been distracted enough to walk right by the door. She steps inside, all confidence and red hair glowing under the incandescent bulbs (no florescents in a place like this) and moves to the counter - it's cafeteria style, with about two dozen different breads to choose from as a start.

[Austin Conway]
Austin gave a final glance back in the direction of Kage's apartment complex, as if he somehow expected something incredibly unpleasant to leap out of the shadows. But ultimately, that never happened, and eventually his demeanor relaxed to the point where he was able to jostle against Enid's side playfully while they walked.

They were going out. As in, a date. (Right? This must be a date. It felt like one.) And as such, Austin had made his very best attempt to wear something that was slightly presentable, though that didn't mean much on his current wages. The jeans he had on were new, instead of faded and torn, and he'd put on a deep red buttoned shirt instead of the usual t-shirt or hoodie underneath his winter coat.

"So um, I never got to thank you, really. For the Christmas present, I mean. I mean, I guess I sortof mentioned it, but your mom and everyone was there and it all happened so fast and it really was a... amazingly, crazily nice thing to offer, so... thank you. But... do you really want me to go with you? It seems a bit... I don't know, crazy. You don't know me that well."

[Enid Geraint]
He jostles against her side and Enid smiles, a small, secret-but-pleased sort of thing, and puts her arm out around his waist. It feels good, really, having this sort of attachment - she hasn't really been without it, since she was old enough to realize that boys were something other than yucky. While she knows that she hardly needs a boy to get by, it's just a thing. It makes lights brighter, and snow whiter.

On the way in, she'd paused long enough to catch a couple flakes on her tongue.

It's after they've collected sandwiches and drinks and moved to sit down in a corner apart that Austin talks, and the smile at this is more obvious, and her brown eyes twinkle. "Well, it would be nicer than traveling alone. And Emily's said we could get together with our laptops and she'd hook me up with some interesting things to see in a lot of different places, not just China and Taiwan. So, it stands to be a lot more interesting than the trip I originally had planned."

Which she mourns, a bit, though she still hasn't decided if she'll take the internship at Marcom or not - she's on their roster, ready to start on their payroll after the fifteenth, but that doesn't mean she's decided. After her mom's visit, with friends in tow, she may not show at the appointed time.

"So, it's up to you. I mean, the voucher has an expiration date, but you can use it whenever you want before then. I just . . . thought if you were that into it, you should get a chance to go."

[Austin Conway]
"Well, you gave it to me so... it seems a little silly to not use it when you do. Besides, I couldn't do that. It would be... awful and selfish." Never did he actually say that he couldn't imagine why he might want to go alone when he could be with her, which was what a good boyfriend (that is, assuming he was, which they hadn't really talked about either) was supposed to say in this sort of situation.

Of course, Austin had never officially dated anyone before, and he was prone to looking first at the morality of a decision before thinking about his own emotional involvement. It just wasn't right to let someone give you a gift like that and not share it with them.

He took of his coat and hung it on the back of his chair before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. Eating was both foremost on his instincts and something that he did without really thinking. There was food, so he was eating it, important conversation or no.

[Enid Geraint]
This is one thing that Enid isn't pushing to define; there's been kissing on occasion, one imagines, but she hasn't tried to go any further than that. The contact stops just a bit before it might become . . . difficult . . . for either of them to think properly, and the topic gets shifted to something else, something innocent and innocuous.

There's a lot they haven't talked about, really. He knows there was a boyfriend and a best friend, but that they're gone. He knows that she went to a private school and excelled, knows - or at least has met - her parents, but there's more that he doesn't know than he does.

"In which case, I'll hop on the computer when I get home and do some room shuffling - I'll get neighboring rooms if I can, and two fulls or queens instead of one king if I can't. Though it's an apartment in Beijing - my mom's covering it. I don't know what it's like yet." She shrugs apologetically - but one imagines there's a bedroom and a couch, at least, so they can take turns if necessary. "And we leave on the tenth." In just a couple days, then. "We've got five days in Tai Pei - or where ever we want to go in Taiwan, really - and then we're in Beijing."

She falls quiet and blows across her soup before tasting it - she approves, apparently. "I mean, if that's alright with you," she finishes, once the bite is swallowed.

[Austin Conway]
"I..."

If it was possible to be simultaneously excited and uncomfortable, Austin had practically become a poster child for it by now. It seemed like he felt a lot of contradictory emotions around Enid, in general, and this particular subject was a pretty difficult one. The idea of going to another country with someone he'd only just met seemed all at once wonderful and terrifying, and the nagging little voice of responsibility kept prodding him to simply turn her down and hand the ticket back like any rational person would do. He hadn't done that, though.

"Honestly I'm happy to go wherever you think would be best. Although... I've always wanted to visit some of those old buddhist temples. I don't care about the rooms, really. I'm happy sleeping on the floor. Probably be more comfortable than the bed in my apartment." There was some wry humor in that as he grinned and took another bite of food.

[Enid Geraint]
Enid's good at giving people conflicting emotions - especially now, more so than she ever had been before. She is (withering and growth, but subtly, quietly so) an odd mix of study, study, study and let's do this that most people find incomprehensible. It's strange, maybe, that she has the confidence and attitude of a pretty, popular girl, but not one of the ones who was popular because she was pretty. No, Enid was popular because, despite everything, it was difficult not to like her. People wanted to be around her.

Exciting and uncomfortable, indeed.

"I'm all about the sightseeing," she says with a smile. "I mean, the only places I've been outside of Chicago, really, have been ski resorts or school trips. And I like history, so old monuments and temples sound fun." Enid, too, eats at least in part because there's food in front of her, because it's coded into her still growing and changing and also quite active body to do so, but she can get away with less than Austin by . . . well, by whatever virtue. With her bowl of soup, she'd only gotten a half sandwich, which she takes a neat bite of now, to chew thoughtfully before she continues.

".....you may have to sleep on the floor sometimes, or I may. But if worst comes to worst, we'll take turns. And I don't want any of that gentlemanly 'you take the bed' stuff," she says with a grin. "I will sometimes, and you will sometimes. But only if there's no other choice."

[Austin Conway]
"But you paid for it, you should take the bed," Austin protested. There was no mention of this being a matter of chivalry, however. He wasn't quite that foolish. Enid wasn't the sort of girl who liked for people to hold doors for her and order her food at restaurants. Although deep down, he might have found the notion of letting a girl sleep on the floor rather ridiculous, the logical portion of his brain told him not to bring the gender issue into the argument.

Of course, most boys his age with anything resembling sense would have just suggested they share the bed and solved all possible problems in one delightfully self-serving swoop. But the idea of him and Enid in bed together was just a quagmire of complications that he really wasn't ready to contemplate at the moment.

"Honestly, I used to sleep on the floor all the time back at the chantry in San Francisco. It doesn't bother me at all. I'm used to it."

[Enid Geraint]
"I didn't pay for it. Y'see, I don't have a job. If I show up at the Beijing office when I'm supposed to, that'll be the start of my first job ever." There's a rueful smile - she's not one of those kids who makes it obvious how pampered and spoiled she is, but . . . well, she's pampered and spoiled. "I had to pay for half of my car, but that was a Dad thing. This . . . it's not. And so it's covered for me."

Which makes it awfully easy for her in a lot of ways. And potentially very difficult in others, but she'll see what she sees when they get there. She's honestly not thinking of the possible complications, but of how amazing it will be to be there, seeing new things and steeping in a language she's been learning for ages. But then there's a wave of her hand, and a smirky sort of grin. "We'll figure it out if and when we need to. But, just so you know, I go camping in the summer - real camping, not in a camper or whatever. I'm not exactly a wuss about where I sleep."

She's making no suggestion that they sleep in the same bed either - for similar reasons, in part, but also because she's in no hurry for it. If it happens, it happens and she's unlikely to shy away from (anything) it, but if it doesn't? That's okay too. But then his last - or part of it that she'd not particularly paid attention to before - registers, and she blinks.

"What was it like there? At the chantry-thing?" She's new. She's never been to the Chantry here, let alone anywhere else.

[Austin Conway]
He let the matter drop, mostly because it wasn't of immediate concern, and partly because Enid had distracted him by asking an entirely different question. He paused to take a long drink of water (Austin never drank anything carbonated, which Enid may or may not have noticed by now) while he contemplated his response.

"Well, I've never been to the one here. Not yet, anyway. So I can't really compare. That one was run by the Akashics, so it was pretty much what you'd expect from them." (As if this might explain all that much to someone as green as Enid.) "There was a temple, and a library, and a tea room, and a lot of space for training and meditation. Oh, and there was a huge garden out back. I really miss that, actually. It was beautiful. Had a koi pond and everything. But we had to work really hard. There wasn't really any spare time to just... go out and have fun."

The longer Austin spoke, the more his voice started to get soft and wistful. More than that... it ached. And there was something very sad that touched his eyes.

[Enid Geraint]
".....you miss it there." It's not really a question; she doesn't quite understand, what with never having been away from the place to which she's tied by so many strings for long, but she has an idea, at least. Her hand, the one not wrapped around her mug of tea, comes across the table to rest on his briefly, to offer comfort (or maybe just contact). "It sounds gorgeous. Maybe."

And this takes a turn for the shy, where all her planing for a trip across a large ocean and a larger continent hadn't; that had been her thing, something she knew about. If he'd said he wanted to go on his own, she'd have smiled and told him to have a good time, and that she'd call periodically if he wanted her to, or maybe send postcards. (She cares. She wants him to go with her, to be there when they're both experiencing China for the first time. But she knows she'd spoken and acted rashly, and that she might not get exactly what she wants from it.)

But this is different. It's asking to be let in, rather than opening a door.

"Maybe you could show me some day."

[Austin Conway]
Did he miss it there? Of course. Which was why Enid hadn't framed it as a question. Austin's response was to let out a long breath and nod gently. Yes. Yes he missed it there. Yes he missed it dearly and painfully and wanted desperately to go back pretty much every single day. But he couldn't. In the same way that going back to Miami wasn't the same as going home, neither could this ever be, now.

Home didn't exist without the people who made it that way.

"I um..." his voice shook a little. "Honestly I don't think I could. Too many... ghosts." And then there was wetness in his eyes, and he stood up a little awkwardly. His mouth opened, to say something, and then it snapped shut again and he just turned around and walked quickly from their table. Fleeing out the door and into the cold, despite not being properly dressed for it. Hopefully Enid would understand that he intended to come right back. (After all, he wouldn't have left his coat behind otherwise, right?)

[Enid Geraint]
".........."

Hopefully she'll understand. He did leave his coat after all, and thus he can't intend to stay long in the temperatures that haven't hit higher than the lower twenties in days. Still his sudden departure leaves her blinking and confused, uncertain of . . . everything. She's not an insecure girl, not a girl prone to blaming herself for things over which she has no control, but still she wonders if she should have just kept her mouth shut, or kept talking about the trip to China, or moved back to talk about Blue Man Group (for which she'd gotten two tickets, yes, and invited him to join her - but they're on their way to becoming friends-and-maybe-more. She doesn't make assumptions, and if it's not his cup of tea, he's hardly obligated to go.) or . . . something. Anything.

She sits, quietly eats more of her soup and sandwich, and then cups her tea in her hands. She'll give him time, but if it's too long she'll go outside to find him, to give him his coat. It's not been that long since she lost people, after all. She knows from needing a bit of time.

[Austin Conway]
He'd left because he couldn't bring himself to cry in the middle of a crowded restaurant with Enid watching him. It was silly, and he knew it, but there it was. The most basic of teenage male instincts, to avoid embarrassment. Not that things weren't likely to be just as embarrassing when he went back inside all red and splotchy and had to try and explain himself, but Austin hadn't thought things through that far.

He certainly hadn't meant to start crying either. (So much for being stoic and balanced.) Normally he had better control over himself than that, but it had been a long, difficult few months, and spending the holidays alone had made things doubly worse. He felt lost.

Outside, he crumpled against the side of the building and held his face in his hands, trying to get control over himself as tears flowed down his cheeks and the frozen wind bit into his skin. Ultimately, the cold may have actually helped. It numbed him, and caused his body to start sending frantic messages of survival that superseded the desire to simply break down and be miserable. Finally, he seemed to relax, at least a little, and he did his best to wipe away the wetness from his face.

Eventually, he came back inside, though he did look like a bit of a mess when he sat down in front of Enid again and took a deep breath.

"I am... so sorry, about that. Really. You must think... I mean, do you want me to go? Maybe I should just go."

[Enid Geraint]
It took long enough that, upon his return, he found Enid staring at his jacket indecisively . . . as if it might give her answers, or maybe just as if she ought to take it outside to him. He comes back, though, and it doesn't take an in depth study to know that something's up. Now it's he that she stares at, but more briefly.

When she acts, it's impulsive - he doesn't get the same sort of study her books or laptop or even his coat had gotten. No, he gets the un-premeditated (but not completely thoughtless) action that is coming around the table, leaning in and down slightly as she draws his chin up, and a long kiss on the lips. It's relatively chaste as these things go - as all their kisses are - but still, there's no lack of intent. She is strong (amusingly, for a girl who hasn't been Awakened long enough to have the added conviction in herself and ability that most mages have), and she's there for him.

Only when that's done, and when she's blushing slightly, does she return to her seat to speak calmly, easily. "If you think that'd be best. Or we can finish eating and . . . Mom and the others didn't come to Dad's and my place, you know. So, I don't know if that means much, but maybe it's alright? If you want to come over and chill with a video game or just music or something. But, whatever."

Again, it's not that she doesn't care. But this time, there's only so much talking she can do without contradicting herself.

[Austin Conway]
When Enid stood up and moved toward him, Austin watched her as if he wasn't sure if he wanted her to actually get this close. There was hesitance and a guarded expression in his eyes. But when her lips met his, it melted a little of the cold that had settled so forcefully into his skin and heart, and after a brief moment of non-response, he lifted a hand up to touch the side of her face and kissed her back gently. His lips and fingers were icy to the touch, which somehow just didn't seem right, on him. Austin was a summer person. He always felt warm.

And then the kiss ended, and Enid sat back down and asked if he wanted to go back home with her. Austin contemplated this and opened his mouth to tell her no... but ended up saying, instead, "...Okay." Because it was what he wanted. Because she was someone to cling to. To be with. When he had nothing. A compass. "I mean, yeah. If you really don't mind. That would be nice."