New Phone

[Emily Littleton] Not long ago, two Awakened women had traded pleasantries and concerns in the cold of a Chicagoan winter night, on a non-descript street corner, in the shadier part of town. It's the sort of set up that rarely leads to good things, to progress, yet here we are now.

Emily approaches Ashley's home, with her messenger bag slung over her shoulder and across to the opposing hip. Her fingers are wrapped about the strap and she is, admittedly, a little nervous as she reaches up to rap once, then twice on the door. She does not ring the bell.

It is a strange thing, the mending of fences, putting things right again. Even without a transgression to apologize for, there is a tight knot in her stomach : concern. Whether the door is answered by Enid or Ashley, and whether or not that answering is presaged by the scrabble of canine claws on the floor beyond, Emily is smiling softly (politely) when the door swings open.

"Afternoon," she says. "Mind if I drop in for a bit?" she asks.

[Ashley McGowen] In keeping with the bizarre sleep habits Enid has come to notice, Ashley did not arrive home until rather late this morning - nearly nine o'clock - after which she promptly went to her room to doze off for a few more hours. For the most part Enid has been left to her studies during the past week, accompanied, of course, by long journal entries, by papers and quizzing on this or that treatise or book.

Someone knocks at the door and Emily can indeed hear the scrabble of claws on wood within, and then a heavy thud against the door. Another voice, scolding the dog for jumping and telling him to stay down.

The door swings open, and there is Ashley, hair damp from a recent shower and keeping a finger hooked around the dog's collar. She blinks when it's Emily she sees standing there smiling. "...Hi. You can come in," she says, and she moves off to the side out of the girl's way. She's only jeans and a red T-shirt, and her feet are still bare.

[Enid Geraint] Enid is curled up in the chair that's become 'hers' in the time since she got back, time she's spent living here - she goes out for twice-daily runs now, but for the most part, she's curled up there, working on said papers or being quizzed. She's a good, voracious student, is Enid; under normal circumstances, she's the kind of student that every teacher wants. Now, though she's coming back into herself, she's still a bit pale and wan. She's mourning, really, though she won't admit it to herself - let alone anyone else - and her confidence has taken a huge hit.

It's to be expected, really.

There's a knock, and Zane scrambling, and Ashley answering the door - and Enid doesn't even look up until somewhere around 'you can come in'. She sees Emily there, and musters something close to a smile, though it's a pale imitation of the one to which Emily's accustomed.

"Hey. Should I make tea?"

[Emily Littleton] "Thanks," she says to Ashley, with a warming smile. Now that the dance is begun, Emily can squish that nervousness down deeper inside her. When it really matters, when she's had some time to prepare, she's fairly good at smoothing things over and making everything seem okay. She crouches a little, just enough to give Zane a hand to sniff at, a rub on his head and a brighter yet smile, before she steps past them and into the home.

Emily's wearing the same coat she's always wearing these days (and nights). There's no sense in having two coats when one is perfectly serviceable. Underneath, though, is jeans and a solid color tee with some witty programming expression (or joke) on it.

"Hi, Enid," she says, warmly, when the other girl rouses from chair. "Tea would be lovely," Emily adds as she slips her messenger bag strap off over her head. Unbuttons her coat.

"I brought you something..." she says, once the girl has headed toward the kitchen. This gives her time to pull out the white 'berry, show it to Ashley for approval/acknowledgement. In a lower voice, she adds, to Ashley, "A friend of ours made sure that it's secure. He does good work, but said you'd still probably want to have it looked at again."

Emily hoped that Ashley could sort out their mutual acquaintance. There were only so many people in town who could make tech toys into better tech toys, after all.

[Ashley McGowen] She's noticeably less tense than she was when they met on the street the other night, but evidently still not enough to return the smile. After Emily has stepped inside, Ashley reaches behind her and closes the door. There's an earthy, faintly herbal scent to the air, is the first thing Emily would notice: wood and leather and tea mingled together.

The rest of the apartment is in warm tones, browns and reds and creams; two brown leather chairs and a couch are arrayed around a coffee table, a rug covering the floorboards. It has the hushed, comfortable feel of a library, and it should: the walls are lined with wooden bookshelves, all stacked with a variety of titles. Hardbacks, generally.

Zane pads off and takes a corner of the rug that's slightly matted down: a normal spot for him, evidently.

"Sure, Enid, tea would be fine," Ashley says, though she doesn't look at the girl; instead she chooses to have a look at the white Blackberry Emily is extending toward her. She nods when Em says it was done by a mutual acquaintance, turning the phone over in her hands. "I'll have to thank him," she says. "I don't know much about this stuff, but I'll trust his word on it."

The phone, she passes to Enid when her apprentice emerges from the kitchen, and Ash gives Emily a short nod. "Thank you."

[Enid Geraint] Water's put on and tea set into a ball to steep in a pot once the water's right, and then Enid emerges . . . to be handed a phone. It makes her blink, this - she'd figured that would be one of the first things she took care of once her whole money situation was taken care of. The bits she heard about security and what not make her blink, then shrug; she knows it's important, but other than that, it means little to her. She figures it's something like added firewall and virus protection or something, but both are things that she, as who and what she is, takes for granted.

".....thanks," she says, half questioning and obviously surprised. "You didn't have to do that, you know - I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

And she will - of course she will. Enid's a proud girl, and an independent one for her age and upbringing. Just because she hasn't had to work doesn't mean she hasn't been instilled with a sense of its value.

[Emily Littleton] Emily was still standing, with her messenger bag at her feet and her jacket layed across one arm. She looked between Ashley and Enid as the phone changed hands. Her expression was a little more serious, but no less warm.

"The phone's in my name. It's tied to my account. If anyone asks -- though it really shouldn't come up -- I'm a friend of yours and you can't get a cell with a data plan on your own because you haven't had a credit card yet. I'm just helping you out." Emily says this plainly. It's a very simply cover, one that should require no finesse in lying, no great skill to remember. Perhaps the paired Hermetics would be surprised, in part, at how easily it comes to her.

"For the most part, you can do whatever you want with it. Try to be smart about your information, though. Don't go facebooking just because you have web access -- things like that." Enid is, after all, a teenager.

Emily looked to Ashley for a moment, then shrugged a bit. "You should probably keep it in my name for awhile. I don't mind. Just give me a heads up if you manage to send a few thousand text messages to the ISS or anything." A quieter smile. End of lecture. Not that it was much of one.

This bit, though, is directed to Ashley. "Chuck says we should go over everyone's electronics. He tied down my phone, but we'll be going over the rest of it together soon. Any idea how to round up people with their mobiles, etc, and get them to let us secure them?"

She had no idea at all how to convince the Awakened community to do anything. It seemed to Emily like that might be a lot like herding cats. "Know anyone who could help?" It's a big, big job.

[Emily Littleton] "Oh, and," she adds, belatedly, with a less serious smile. "You're welcome." It was good to be helpful, and that seemed to have bolstered Emily a little, too.

[Ashley McGowen] "We'll be calling a meeting within the next couple of weeks," Ashley says. Who knows what she means by 'we' - if Emily has been paying attention, she might be aware that Ashley is in a cabal. She might be aware of how frequently Ashley and Wharil are seen Working together, of how much information they share. "We can bring it up then."

"And speaking of Facebook and things like that, Enid," Ashley says, with another look toward the teenager, "don't use them. Or, if you do, don't add anything that can be traced to your location or people you're with, like pictures." A little more softly, she adds, "You're going to have to have that kind of thing at the forefront of your mind from now on."

[Enid Geraint] ".....I wasn't planning on it. Uncle Zeke and Uncle Dan are on my facebook," she says quietly, with a twist in expression that reads like grief and guilt and anger and betrayal; she's not nearly so good at hiding away thoughts and feelings as Emily is. "And most of the other people on there would rather I'd disappeared after Halloween. But thank you for the warning."

Lecture, whatever - it had been unnecessary, though Enid understands why they'd felt the need to give it. She is a teenager, after all, and facebook is an easy, efficient way of keeping in touch with a lot of people.

"And I don't really . . . have anyone to text," she adds. "But I'll keep track. I'm not going to run up your bill or anything."

[Emily Littleton] "Don't worry about the bill too much; my bill's already sizeable because of the way I travel." A little shrug, a warmer smile. "Mostly, I wanted you to have a way to get back to normal, a little. Get in touch and keep in touch with the people who care about you."

There's a pause here, as if Emily isn't quite sure what to say. How to say what she might want to say. She's still standing, half in and half out of the living room.

"You're looking better," she says, at last. It's an appraisal, and Enid will know that much. "And you're even almost argumentative again," she teased, lightly.

Then there was the matter of a meeting, Ashley had mentioned. Emily canted her head curiously at the we, and the time frame. Rather than questioning, though, she nods. Her teeth catch the corner of her lower lip momentarily, thoughtfully, then she just lets it pass.

[Ashley McGowen] "I've been keeping her busy," Ashley tells Emily, with an almost affectionate glance in Enid's direction. Cultists lose themselves in indulgence, in ecstasy; Verbena lose themselves in their lower selves, the part of them that is an animal; Virtual Adepts lose themselves in some other world that looks just a little more pleasant than this one. Hermetics work.

"If you two want to talk, I can step out to my study or something," she adds, with a quick jerk of her head toward the first of the doors in the hallway.

[Enid Geraint] "She has been keeping me busy. Miles and miles of papers on everything," she says, though it's without the smirk that might have come not so long ago - it's grateful, in fact. Pouring herself into books and papers leaves little time for introspection and remembering, after all.

"And you're fine, unless you have something else to do. Tea's just about ready, and there are muffins."

The baking's tapered off, but still happens occasionally - like the writing and study, it's good for Enid. It's a way to separate from herself, from everything that happened. It's a way to not think about how she hasn't talked to Austin since he left days ago, though were she him, she probably wouldn't want to talk to herself either. So she certainly doesn't blame him.

"And I'm never argumentative. I'm a brilliant example of easy going good nature, I'll have you know."

[Emily Littleton] Emily chuckled a little at Enid's last statement. It was a warmer sound. In the time since they had last seen one another, something in the Orphan had given way as well. They were all on their way to recovery -- from trauma, from stress, from the weight of the world settling down on one's shoulders. It was a good thing, and apt for the time of year : rebirthing, renewal, in anticipation of Spring.

"Oooh, muffins?" she inquired, with a lift to her tone and eyebrows. "I don't mind if you stay," she said to Ashley. "It's your house after all," a lighter tone, gently wry. Emily doesn't mind if you, she says, which could be taken a lot like please in the right contexts.

A seat, then. She belatedly finds one, settles her coat across her lap. Pretends she's there for more than just dropping off the phone. It could have been just an errand, if Enid hadn't felt social or if Ashley hadn't let her in. Emily was flexible like that, today, right now, because the situation dictated it.

[Ashley McGowen] "Enid," Ashley says, with a glance toward the kitchen, "I thought we said no more baking." It's admonishing, but not too harsh; she knows it's how Enid has been coping, taking her mind off of things and giving herself something to do with her hands.

Ashley, too, has a seat, dropping down into one of the chairs across from Emily. She's a little lost, truth be told: smalltalk isn't her strong suit, and she can't take part in many of the conversations that the two girls might have. "Did you give any more thought to what we talked about the other night?" is what she settles on, at last.

[Enid Geraint] "It's better for you, and cheaper, than buying muffins at a coffee shop or whatever," Enid says as she disappears into the kitchen to get the pot, three cups and three muffins - large, but not head-sized as ones from the aforementioned coffee shops might be. "And I slowed way down. So there's that?"

It is, indeed, a part of how Enid's been coping. If she truly weren't allowed to bake - which is a thing she's done at all extremes of emotion since her mother started teaching her how - she'd be having a lot harder time of things. She might have to actually think about what happened, and what might be going on with her mother, her aunt, and her remaining uncles.

Once the tray's settled, though, she's quiet for Emily to answer Ashley's question; she's curious, doesn't know what it was that they discussed, but not nosy.

[Emily Littleton] "About defying gravity?" Emily asks, and it's not some witty retort this time. That was, after all, a topic that had come up in friendly (but not idle) conversation.

And then Enid comes back, and there's a polite thank you and a slight shift of her posture to include them both. So that it was a conversation of three, not a tete-a-tete with a bystander.

She rests her right elbow on the armrest, tips her head so that her temple rests against outstretched fingertips (long fingers, deft and graceful). Her expression is thoughtful, without becoming too serious. Pensive without being pained.

"I suppose the conclusion I've come to is that magic itself isn't too unlike any other Art or Science." She pauses here, barely. Emily's eyes are calm, clear and intelligent. They do not twinkle with anticipation or dance with untold secrets. Nevertheless, there is a spark there that the Hermetics, both quite bright in their own righs, would feel some kinship to. "That you learn to see and sense so that you might understand a pattern or system. And once you understand it, that you might change or influence or alter it. I suppose beyond that -- and correct me if I'm wrong, because here I'm only extrapolating -- you might begin to write new patterns altogether, or ammend existing ones in new ways." It was an abstract explanation, but better than she had managed so far.

"Assuming that's true, then defying gravity might very well be a good next step." The corners of her mouth turned upward a little. "Or manipulating odds, or healing a wound. Though I can't say I've decided on the bigger question of why. Whether it is our will alone, or something higher, or a simple fundamental truth of reality or nature that lets some of us do this while others cannot. I don't know why we Awaken, to what end, or even if there is a greater goal than evolution and growth."

The Orphan bows her head a little, thoughfully. Quietly. It is clear that she is still seeking, may always be seeking, some of these answers.

[Ashley McGowen] There's a long silence while she listens to Emily, takes in that spark in her eyes and her quiet, subdued tones. She's thinking about this, finding her own answers, seeking within. The nod Ashley gives her is slow, understanding, and it seems for a moment that she'd have a response to all of this.

Then a pause; her mouth opens, shuts, and she looks back over her shoulder at Enid as she reaches around to take one of the muffins. "Do you have any insight to offer there, Enid?"

This is something they've studied, spoken about: the drive toward perfection, toward Divinity. At present, though, she's more interested in hearing the girl's own thoughts. It's a test; so much is.

[Enid Geraint] Everything is a test.

For this, Enid is grateful. There is structure that encourages growth, expansion, but there's a purpose to it - to succeed, to exceed expectations. Enid is not the sort of girl who is okay with mediocrity, for all that she'd gladly slip into the background since her Awakening, and more so now. She is an A student who gets an occasional B and is not at all pleased when she does. She strives, and she achieves, and so it's been since she hit preschool, though neither other woman in the room would know that, necessarily, unless they picked it up simply from being around her.

Regardless, she's been asked a question. "At first, I compared it to physics - and that still applies," she says with a shrug. Defying gravity, defying inertia and momentum. Defying space-time. (Enid likes defiance, though she seldom exhibits it. The most she has, in fact, was in that wretched room, with Uncle Dan poking at her.) "I don't know why, either, but I think that's kind of . . . part of the why? All . . . existential, or whatever. As you learn and grow, you figure out the whys."

She's more hesitant than she had been before her trip; then, she'd have answered thoughtfully, but with a confidence that she now lacks.

[Ashley McGowen] "That's not an answer, Enid," Ashley says. "It's true that the 'why' may change and develop as you learn more, but that doesn't change that I asked you what your why is, -now.- Why are you Awake? You have a purpose. Justify your existence."

Her words are harsh, her tone is not. It's soft, in fact, accompanied by a penetrating look, something searching. And then, as though she's realized that the words would be harsh, her tone becomes something more encouraging. "I know you have a better answer for me than that. Come on."

[Emily Littleton] Emily's shoulders squared, ever so slightly, at the change in tone of the conversation around her. She took this moment to pour tea for everyone, before it had oversteeped. And she knew enough to keep her mouth shut, while Enid was tried and tested by her mentor.

This did not keep Emily from listening intently, or for forming her own answers in her head at the moment, lest Ashley turn the same stern language and seeking interest her way again.

[Enid Geraint] It's very subtle, the flinch at harshness-that-isn't; justify your existence, Ashley says, and Enid's lips thin. There is displeasure there, but the last helps ease it a little.

"I'm Awake because I could, because I saw a way and took it despite the potential consequences." Which makes it a matter of Will, of course, as far as Enid's concerned. "And I continue to study and learn so that I can . . . I don't know. I almost said convince myself that the ends justify the means, but . . . I don't really think I'm the one to make that call."

[Ashley McGowen] "So when you learn, are you going to continue doing things just because you can?" A quirked brow, and then a glance at Emily, who she imagines will have something to say to that. And ever so briefly, something, some wistful expression, ghosts across her features. An echo.

[Emily Littleton] "Whereas I am awake because it happened and unlike your start into this world, mine was gentle. I'd like it to inspiration or revelation, which is not to say that it is without consequence or challenge." Emily paused here, and it is obvious, in some ways, that she has been deeply steeped in matters of Faith, that there is a reason her resonance trends toward Reverence and calm.

"With new understandings come heightened responsibility. Responsibility not only to make the ends justify the means, as you said, Enid. But also to be just (righteous), to be mindful and aware. None of these things, or thoughts, occur within a vaccuum. The last few months have clearly taught us that."

[Emily Littleton] ((edit: I'd *liken it...))

[Enid Geraint] "Of course not. A child scoots, then crawls, then walks because he or she can, but she applies this to go specific places because of what can be done when she gets there. I will learn Ars Mentis because I know people who can and will use it against me." That she hates the thought of it is clear in expression and tone; no other Sphere gets the same distaste or reluctance, even as she is quite set on learning it.

"But right now," and here, there's just a hint of before-trip Enid - something in the hunger for learning, for experimentation, and even a hint of the old glee for it, "a lot of it is because I can. I want to know what I can, and how."

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley listens to this response of Emily's, the words she uses - just (righteous) inspiration - and that wistful expression persists. "Don't let fear be the reason you learn anything, Enid," Ashley tells her. "It'll make you turn inward and prevent you from doing the outward seeking you need to do to grow. Learn Ars Mentis because you want to and it's valuable."

A beat passes as she looks between both girls. "I think it would be really beneficial for both of you to talk about these things together more often. You have very different ideas. That's going to push both of you to learn from each other."

[Emily Littleton] "I suppose there's a point where why doesn't quite yet matter," Emily says, once Enid's spoken again. "After all, what matters should when you don't know whether you can or can't do a thing? If you can't, then should or shouldn't is irrelevent. If you can, well, there's when ethics or morality may come into play."

There's a pause, and then she nods to Ashley's suggestion.

"How is important right now. What is important. But why isn't too far off in the learning curve. Maybe that's what Ashley's trying to get at?" She asks, raises an eyebrow as she looks to the Hermetic for confirmation or negation.

[Enid Geraint] "It's not fear." There's a momentary fierceness there, and there's a hint of an Enid that some day, people will not want to cross. But then, there's the girl they know again. ".....not completely, anyway. And it is useful, I suppose." She doesn't say that she wants to - in fact, she doesn't. But that's for quite understandable reasons, and the level of do not want may well lessen as she's further removed from the recent ordeal by time.

"And . . . I'd like that. If you want to, Em."

[Ashley McGowen] "Exactly. Why isn't as far off as you might think. I want you to think about this -now- because it's going to take you a while to answer those questions, and when the time comes when it applies, you don't want to be unprepared."

Enid says it's not fear in those fierce, Willful tones, and both of Ashley's eyebrows arch, lofting upward and disappearing beneath the fringe of hair in front. She doesn't comment on it, though, and simply listens as they agree to talk more often.

[Emily Littleton] "Of course," she says, and with no small measure of warmth. Enid seems more like herself already, and Emily has a dozen or so new thoughts to mull over (which is always appreciated [more or less]). "You let me know when you're free, and I'll try make it happen," she adds.

It is an odd thing, feeling halfway between the two Hermetics and yet of a mindset all her own. Perhaps it is a perspective due to age, or theological upbringing, or cultural factors.

"You can ring me now, so planning should be easier," she adds, with a broader grin. Though now is a good time for Emily to take her leave, and she is already readying herself to stand. "I should get back to campus for a little while. But thank you both for having me over. It's good to see you," the pleasantry is extended to them both. Emily is feeling more comfortable (less closed) with Ashley these days.

[Enid Geraint] "Yeah, I'll call you. And thanks again for the phone," to which she's been clinging - she's not particularly technologically oriented, perhaps, but she's of a generation where having things like a cell phone and a laptop are more common than not. "And we should start running again. It'll be good to have someone to workout with."

It's . . . not quite a smile, not like others she's given, but yes - she's closer to normal. Perhaps closer than she should be, given, but it's a start. One supposes there will be surges forward and backslides for a while yet.

[Ashley McGowen] "Good to see you too. Thanks for bringing the phone by," Ashley tells Emily, getting up so that she can guide her on her way out the door. And to prevent Zane from trying to follow her out; already the shepherd has risen as though in anticipation of another walk. Full of energy, yearling dogs.

"Take care. Enid's going to be moving shortly, so you might want to call ahead. Wouldn't want you to make a needless trip out here."

[Emily Littleton] "Yes, we should," Emily said, about the running. "I've not been exercising enough, and the mid-term stresses are getting to me."

She's gathering her things, moving toward the door, side-stepping Zane. Ashley's house is full of activity, in Emily's mind. Books, and tea, and interesting conversations, and (of course) Zane. Force of chaos and adorable companion.

"I enjoy talking with you too, Ashley," she says, once she's back on the doorstep. "It wouldn't be needless."

And with that, the Orphan goes, feeling a bit better for having dropped by.