Hermetic Meeting

[Ashley McGowen] Hermetics and meetings go well together. They have a reputation for being the most organized Tradition, and with good reason: politics in the Order rivals ancient Rome. Or, at least, that's what they say. Ashley hasn't had much exposure to it thus far - generally her old cabal mates handed those matters.

She asked them to meet her at the chantry, and she's there early. Basil is much of the reason for her punctuality, as a matter of fact. She suspects Basil is the sort who would show up early to have something to rub her nose in: thus, a pre-emptive strike.

Ashley has taken up a spot in the meeting room and is, at the moment, reading through a large book on the root of Enochian runes. The younger Hermetic is dressed in a black pair of pants and a buttondown shirt (a dark purple) and taking care to make notes on the side on a pad of paper that appears to have been well utilized for just such a purpose.

[Basil Gillingson] She is rather correct in this assumption. The Hermetic does arrive to the meeting before it is scheduled. Almost a quarter before it is to begin, in fact. He steps inside, in his hand holding a grimoire that had a strange human flesh-like binding to it rather then traditional leather or even fabled dragon-hide as some claimed to own. He's dressed somber as always though today he is wearing a silver pin with his House sigil on the lapel of his sheepskin jacket.

He scans the room...staring at Ashley for a moment before he began to rotate around the table to take a seat that sits directly across from her own so that his gaze would rest on her for most of the meeting. Another psychological tactic to continually have the Faustian on her toes or with the sensation of being watched at all moments. Basil sat the book on the table before taking his own seat without greeting.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley looks up when she hears Basil come into the room, and her expression suggests how very unsurprised she is to see him there. "Evening, Basil," she says, setting her pen down as he goes to take a seat.

Her eyes rest, briefly, on the book he has in his hands. The leather it's bound in is a bit paler than cow leather - well, a lot paler, as a matter of fact. Ashley eyes the gristly object with a little fascination, but doesn't inquire as to its contents. Yet. "Have you been settling into the city well?"

[Basil Gillingson] "Good day, Adept McGowen."

His tone struck out like a lash almost, as if to remind his superior of proper protocol. He watches her, his fingers bridging together to rest over the book as he stared with the dark eyes...the hawkish nose giving the aspect of a bird of prey looking for its next meal.

"A city is a city, no different from York, Cork, or London. My dwellings and my home I have managed to secure readily with the assistance of House Fortunae. So, it is going fine."

[Ashley McGowen] She hears that snap in his tone, doesn't miss how pointedly he uses her title and surname rather than the familiarity she'd used. Ashley meets his gaze and doesn't smile. Perhaps she's irritated with him. Perhaps she's reminding herself that he's from Europe and they observe stricter formalities in many places there.

"Glad to hear it," she says. "And I heard you met my apprentice, so the only person here you won't be familiar with is Solomon Quicksilver. I thought we all might benefit from getting to know each other." Ashley isn't the type to smalltalk - her demeanor is not exactly a chatty one - so chances are she has other driving goals behind this too.

[Basil Gillingson] "Ah...yes...your apprentice. Did she inquire on the Second Massassa War with you?"

Basil this time does show something on his expression...the tips of his lips almost seem to smile. The look was unusual on Basil and there seemed to be nothing but sadistic mirth in that expression as the Quaesitor watched Ashley. It was likely that Basil had told her apprentice on it on purpose for a later confrontation on it like today..or perhaps he was using it merely to indicate painful history between their Houses. Either case, it was a thorough reminder of the political machinations a full member of the Order was capable of doing.

It also spoke volumes to how long Basil had been 'playing the game'...the move, simple as it was, was rather effective in a number of other ways for the future as well beyond this conversation.

[Ashley McGowen] "No, she hasn't. I don't have any first hand experience anyway. I was only an apprentice at the time," she says. The look she is giving Basil suggests that she would like to pin him in place in the chair with just her eyes, if she could.

It does speak to how long Basil's been around. She had somewhat suspected this, though, given his age. Given a few of the things Susannah said. "Did you sit some of the trials?"

[Basil Gillingson] "No. I have reviewed cases as well as assisted in garnishing evidence but I was never involved in the trials. The House saw fit to detain me for other reasons."

Basil kept that same stare, only blinking when necessary as his bridged fingers lifted to prop under his chin. His head cocked slightly as he spoke.

"But I was not saying first hand experience but rather the contents of the War itself. She seems to be pursuing law...possibly membership into my House by the sound of her goals. You should caution her on the conditions of such and what they bring with them. She's...naive."

[Ashley McGowen] "Of course she's naive. She's seventeen," Ashley says, directing a frown toward him. "I don't think she has that many illusions about things she might be required to do. Even if she does...I trust her to be Willful enough to deal with whatever unpleasant realities there are, and to be able to become what she wants to be regardless." She's mentored by a Tytalan after all: regardless of where she ends up, it's likely that she'll have been given a thorough schooling in growth through adversity.

Ashley leans back in her chair, tapping her pen against the pad of paper for a few moments as she looks across the table at him.

"She's talked a lot about wanting to go into law once she gets older," Ashley says, "and I thought Quaesitor might be a good fit. She doesn't really have many inclinations toward the Ars Mentis, either, which would hamper her in Tytalus."

[Basil Gillingson] "It could hamper her in Quaesitor as well as Ars Mentis is one of the usual arts attributed to my House. Granted, if she has an affinity for Ars Mane...they might overlook that flaw."

The bridge of his fingers press against his lips, hiding the sardonic smirk he had earlier as he takes a contemplative expression, his eyes not directly on her.

"Perhaps Fortunae could use her skills as well...I imagine they would love to have an attorney on hand."

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley looks over at him and actually quirks a grin at the suggestion. "They might. She hasn't really shown a lot of interest in anything like that so far, though. But I think she is working on expanding her knowledge of the Ars Spirituum."

She looks at him for a second, meets his eyes with an almost questioning expression. She certainly hasn't attempted such things: most Tytali haven't, after Faust. After its use has permanently placed a black mark on the reputation of the house.

"I can't teach her much about it. But if she has aspirations in Quaesitor, I think it'd be beneficial for her to talk with you more."

[Basil Gillingson] Basil paused, the eyes losing the contemplative tinge and staring at Ashley.

"If I do teach her anything, I will consider it a favor to you, Adept McGowen."

Nothing in this life was free and Basil would extort something from her at a later time...but such was the way with garnering a mentor for an apprentice...because in the end, Morgan / Enid was the apprentice to her.

"But...I would be willing as long as she doesn't bungle any of my current contracts."

[Ashley McGowen] "Done." She's used to such favor-trading: it's a common practice among most Hermetics, given the political nature of the Tradition. Given how very egocentric most of its members are, they're almost expected to be self-interested to a certain extent. It's how one gets by.

"I'd much rather have her learning from you than from the Dreamspeakers or the Euthanatos." Even if she is cabaled with them. It doesn't mean she sees entirely eye to eye with them, or thinks the methodology they'd pass along to her apprentice would be appropriate. "I'm sure I'd have things I could teach you in return, if you're thinking along those lines."

[Basil Gillingson] "We shall see. For now, my studies are focused towards Ars Mane and there is little you could teach me in that, I am quite sure, Adept McGowen."

Basil then leaned back, his hand moving to reach inside his jacket...before a silver fob watch was pulled from the inside. He paused, looking at it and sighing.

"It would seem your apprentice as well as the other one are very adept at being late for a scheduled meeting."

The British way of saying schedule was rather clear, rolling off his tongue.

[Ashley McGowen] "Do you have somewhere to be?" Ashley asks him, spinning the pen between two fingers and glancing back at him over the table. She doesn't seem terribly annoyed; magi are rarely the most punctual of beings, and she can be surprisingly patient. When she wants to be.

"They both have to walk around town, for the most part. I'm sure they just got held up and they'll be here shortly."

[Basil Gillingson] "Its not an endearing trait."

He says flatly before sliding the piece away. He decides to preoccupy himself by opening the grimoire and beginning to read. Even from upside down, its obvious that much of the text is etched in Enochian phrases rather then the standard Latin that most would assume would be in such tomes.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley gives him a few seconds to devote to the grimoire. Just enough time to open it, to find his page again, to settle back into the words and get back into the proper mindset. She eyes the binding, again with that curiosity (hunger.) Then, "What are you reading?" cuts through Basil's concentration like a knife.

One just might suspect that she's -trying- to irritate him.

[Morgan Lake] And lo - Morgan's ears are surely burning, considering how much talking has been done about her. Her cheeks certainly are by the time she bustles into the room, a bit chilled from being outside in the early spring evening. She wears jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with a flash of color at her neck where surely there's a t-shirt underneath; she looks every inch the soon-to-be collegiate, it must be said. There are no effusions of excuses, simply a nod for each of the elder mages (Ashley [Adept] first, then Basil).

"Sorry I'm late," she says, hoisting the laptop bag from where it had run left shoulder to right hip - it's to heavy for there to be only a laptop in there, so surely she was at some library or bookstore before coming here. "Hello."

[Basil Gillingson] He glances up to Ashley, about to say something but then Morgan walks in. Whatever ire he might have had for McGowen, he now had a new target.

"I am glad to see that the Apprentice has had time to come and see her superiors in her schedule. I do hope this meeting was not an inconvenience for you, Initiate Lake."

[Ashley McGowen] "Hello, Morgan. Do we have an ETA on Solomon?" Ashley asks the girl as she walks into the room. Basil, when he reprimands the girl, gets a dirty look - though the reprimand evidently wasn't severe enough to provoke the Tytalan into asserting herself.

"Go ahead and sit." Ashley and Basil are seated across from one another at the table. A staredown, of sorts.

[Morgan Lake] This reprimand actually gets Morgan's posture pulls to that not-quite-rigid straightness that Ashley sees rarely, but Basil'd seen the only other time they met. The expression on her face changes only slightly - a twist of lips, perhaps, or a set of her eyes. It's difficult to pin down, but she doesn't back-talk, but does give answer - to that, before she answers Ashley even.

"I did apologize, Mr. Gillingson. While I understand it may be inadequate as far as you're concerned, there's little I can do about it now." There's a huff of breath and hair tucked back behind her ears now, as her attention turns to her mentor - who gets a smile. Morgan is ever pleased to see Ashley. "I don't know. I've been out most of the day, studying and working on things."

When she's offered a seat, she takes one - closer to Ashley than Basil, but between the two rather than clearly on one side or the other. She's not staring anyone down.

[Basil Gillingson] "I would be careful in taking a tone with me, Practicus Lake. You won't like the results of such manners with me. Especially given your coming future."

Basil gave that smile again....that glimmer of sadistic charm that etched into a facsimile of emotion as he stared at her now. Then his eyes looked to Ashley as he knew the mentor would be the one to break 'bad news'.

[Ashley McGowen] "Mr. Gillingson is going to be schooling you in the Ars Spirituum, Morgan," Ashley says, with a sidelong glance toward her apprentice as the girl takes a seat. There aren't smiles today: this is a meeting of like minds, and one in which Ashley is likely to be viewed as the most senior member, given Solomon's age and relative inexperience. It's all business. "Since you've shown an interest in heading into Quaesitor."

She sets down her pen again, redirecting her gaze once more to Basil. "I'm sure you'll learn a lot from him, particularly since we all understand the need for Tradition solidarity in the city."

[Morgan Lake] And Enid is its most junior member (but this is nothing new, in this setting or any other), which doesn't bother her at all. She nods, the smile gone as quickly as it came, and crosses her legs in front of her at the ankle, stretched out below the table. "Alright, then. I'll do my best to be a good student and a quick study. And no doubt I will learn a lot."

Which is, of course, what Ashley knows of her anyway; the girl learns by leaps and bounds. And it's not that Basil's warning goes ignored so much as they're bound to disagree on it, and so Morgan lets it go easily (which isn't always the case). There's no advantage to holding onto such things now. And of course she knows that such a favor hadn't come free - nothing ever does. Still . . .

"Thank you, Mr. Gillingson, for agreeing to take me on."

[Solomon Quicksilver]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 5 (Botch x 1 at target 8)

[Basil Gillingson] He just nods.

"Just be studious and do not annoy the Umbrood that I am dealing with. Otherwise, you shall quickly find yourself having to fulfill the contracts for me to regain their favor."

Basil then turns to Ashley.

"Now we wait on one other."

[Solomon Quicksilver] A Hermetic meeting. A somewhat frightening prospect, especially for younger members of the Tradition. He was just a boy in appearance. Late teens probably. But as with many things, involving mages, looks are often deceiving. He arrives at the Chantry in a suit. He thought sometimes, it was best to dress up. Dress to impress.

His flat soled shiny black shoes hit the porch of the Chantry. Solomon paused there. Resting a hand on one of the columns for the porch. He closed his eyes. Reached back into his mind quietly. Breathing steadily, while focusing elsewhere. He wanted a little extra juice for this meeting. He'd heard about the... new arrival.

And he finds it. His eyes snap open. He looks down at himself for a moment as though he doesn't recognize himself. Smiling softly. His hands come up in front of his face. Turn slowly one way, then another. Brush down over the front of his black suit jacket, his deep red tie, and black shirt. The muscles of his face straighten. Aligning into a thin smile. Yes. It'd do.

Then he stepped into the chantry. Feet clonking on the solid wood flooring until he appears in the doorway to the meeting room and pauses. Straight backed. Quite a different Solomon than Morgan or Ashley were used to. Dressed up. A stern straight lipped look on his face. Hair swept back behind his ears. Posture painfully erect.

"Hello."

[Ashley McGowen] What Solomon finds in the meeting room is the three other Hermetics, already seated: Basil and Ashley sitting across from each other. As though staring each other down (as has happened several times already while they've been in the room together.) Morgan sitting between them.

Ashley, who is dressed in a black pair of pants and a dark purple buttondown shirt - casual business dress - raises her eyebrows when she sees the boy walk in wearing a suit. "Hey, Solomon," she says, choosing not to comment on the fact that he's chosen to be so formal. Doubtlessly Morgan, in her collegiate dress, probably feels a little awkward right about now. "Go ahead and have a seat."

She waits for him to settle himself, then gestures toward Basil. "I don't think you two have met, have you?"

[Morgan Lake] "I will," she answers Basil, and the 'of course' is left implied rather than said.

This is spoken as Solomon enters, and Morgan's eyes flick over him briefly; an eyebrow raises, but that's the only indication given that anything's out of the ordinary. "Hello, Solomon." There's a formality about her that's never there - her posture is always good but this is different, somehow, despite the stretch of long legs under the table.

She does feel out of place, it must be said - but clothes shopping hadn't been high on the list of priorities when she regained control of her assets and had to begin spending them in ways for which they weren't intended. First had been the laptop, of course - well, after she paid Emily for her phone (or tried to), and for whatever her part of the bill was. So, collegiate casual is what she has to her name - well, that and running clothes, which actually had been high on the priority list but would be even less appropriate than what she's wearing.

[Basil Gillingson] Basil was not dressed to the nines, as it were. In fact, he looked like he could fit at a club or leisurely reading a novel in a book store. Even sitting in a Starbucks. His eyes drifted towards Solomon. One would think that meeting a new person, Basil would be charming...polite...endearing. They would be wrong.

"You are late. Even later then the Practicus. That does not speak well of your character. That implies many other characteristics to you though..."

The judging eye of the Quaesitor stared at Solomon before he spoke.

"We have not met. I am Initiate Exemptus Basil Gillingson bani Quaesitor, Walker of the Tartan Pit, the Seventh White Lightning Strike of Jorvika, Jupiter's Prodigy, and Thrice-Proved Scion of the Halls of Rezhark."

He does not rise to offer his hand, instead leaving his palm resting on the flesh-tinged hide of his grimoire.

[Solomon Quicksilver] He pauses at the threshold to the room. His brown eyes swivel to meet Ashley's. There's that sense, she sometimes gets, and that Morgan often comments on, that there's someone much older behind those eyes than the lack of wrinkles around them would suggest. His eyebrows raise fractionally. Then his eyes drift down over himself. Staring down his front a moment. It's a slight twitch of his hands, out and forward, to look at them again. He murmurs, "Mm, yes, Solomon." To himself.

Then he snaps his eyes back up. Flicks them briefly over Morgan. Around to Basil. "No, we have not."

Basil's eyes are met with a similarly hard stare. There's rigidity, a lack of flexibility, someone well set in his ways. He doesn't seem to judge, but it feels like he's assessing Basil for a moment. And then disinterest.

He takes a few clacking steps in his dress shoes. The thick heels of his dress shoes knocking a steady rhythm in the wood of the floor as he moves around to stand behind the chair at the other end of the table. Across from Morgan. Sideways to Basil and Ashley.

His eyes flick to Ashley. "Or perhaps you were early. But your attempt to put me at disadvantage with insult is noted." He smiles thinly at Basil. His slender hands wrap over the back of the chair. Rest there.

"I am Adept Solomon Firebra-" He pauses. Coughs. "Solomon Blackstone Quicksilver." His voice slow and grave. "Vessel of Souls, Keeper of Blackstone Castle, Bani Bonisagus." A pause. His eyes fixing on Basil for a moment. "And your senior." He smiles thinly. "Remember that."

Then in a flourish, he withdraws the chair, steps around it neatly, draws it in against his calves and sits down. Folding his hands on the table in a fist in front of him.

[Ashley McGowen] Basil reaches 'the Seventh White Lightning Strike of Jorvika' and Ashley's hand raises to cover her mouth. Ostensibly to tug at her lower lip as she looks down at her book, still open there on the table. Now that Solomon is in the room she shuts it, pushing it aside. "Proved -three- times," she tells the other Adept. Solemn.

That he seems a little odd today has not gone unnoticed, and so Solomon gets a questioning look as he folds his hands on the table. He's explained his Awakening to her though, and so there is some understanding of what might be going on, even behind the inquiry.

"All right," she says, with a look at the other three. "I called everyone here for a couple of reasons. The fact that we weren't all acquainted was a problem. Now fixed. The second thing is this...I want a strong Hermetic foothold here while the chantry in Chicago is still establishing itself. I want to establish an official Hermetic chapter here, and a means of communication between the four of us and any new members that come to the city. We need a chapter house, for that...which would hopefully also serve as a place to go to ground if something were to happen to the chantry again."

There's a pause as she reaches up and scratches her jaw, looking between the other pairs of eyes in the room. "Questions? Suggestions?"

[Morgan Lake] Politics. Morgan has little to say about all of this, and so she stays quiet for the moment, but let us not think for a moment that she isn't listening, watching. She knows the degrees, the titles, knows who's the senior of whom here, despite the (deceiving) apparent ages. But thus far, she's not been in a situation where it particularly mattered, and she finds herself terribly curious. She's watching, absorbing.

[weighing.precedent(assessing.verity)]

And of course, Solomon's trip on his name hasn't gone unnoticed, but then 'Morgan' is still new to her - nearly as often as not she begins with a long E, still, and has to correct herself in introductions. Then, quickly, it's down to business and Morgan doesn't so much as blink with the shift, but takes it in stride. (Redirect, your honor.) The question of a chapter house gets a raised eyebrow glance shot Solomon's way, questioning - but it's not her [home] house, so she doesn't volunteer.

"To which mother-house would we owe allegiance, if any, or will there be an attempt to turn our chapter-house into such if and when our numbers grow? How will our Tribunal be chartered?" Those are two rather big questions to start with - and who knew that she'd delved into such things? This area of study hasn't been shared with Ashley yet, even.

[Basil Gillingson] Basil arched a brow at Ashley when the title of Adept is leveled....he didn't recall anything about another adept being here but he looks towards Solomon.

"Yes, my superior in many things, I am sure...except my House's jurisdiction. Regardless...I am in support of a chapter house though I do not possess resources to fund such a venture. Your proposal, Adept McGowen?"

He bridges his fingers together as the elder Hermetic watched the three but primarily Ashley herself.

[Morgan Lake] ((My AIM is apparently made of fail tonight. Court79Cat if anyone needs me.))
to Ashley McGowen, Basil Gillingson, owl, Solomon Quicksilver

[Solomon Quicksilver] His eyes meet Ashley's. And one eyebrow raises a fraction. As though wondering exactly what her questioning glance were all about. Then his eyes flick between Basil and Morgan. Does he roll his eyes a little at Basil's remark? Perhaps. And he doesn't seem to acknowledge Morgan's look.

He returns the look at Ashley, as he speaks. "You both know of Blackstone Castle, I believe." Flicking a glance back and forth between Morgan and Ashley now. Steady, brown eyes. A tired look on his face. "It has been in my hands for generations. I do not see a reason to share it." Brow raising a fraction again. "If that is what you were both, I assume, thinking."

[Ashley McGowen] There's a look toward Morgan. A little surprised, perhaps, but more likely pleased; she really hadn't been aware that the girl had been delving into political studies, but maybe it shouldn't surprise her. "As of right now, I think we're too small to consider owing allegiance to a mother-house. If our numbers grow that might change. I intend to arrange the Tribunal so that any major decision we make - if any, right now - is done by vote. It's worked for past Tribunals and it works well in Tytalus."

Basil asks about the chapter house, and then Solomon speaks before she can reply. She looks over at him, and a frown touches between her brows. Just for a moment. "I didn't assume anything," she tells him, "since it's your home. But I'd hoped you'd recognize the benefits of allowing at least one of its rooms to be used. Better wards, since each of us specialize in different Ars, and possibly a common library, for example. Not to mention the status if and when the chapter grows in size."

[Basil Gillingson] (Guys....I need to bail...assume Basil would have listened in and said he will contemplate before agreeing to something.)

[Morgan Lake] "We'll need to establish a covenant," is the last out of Morgan - whether or not they use Solomon's house, this seems to be the thing that most of them want. Better to be with them from the start than to argue against they way they seem to be going.

[Solomon Quicksilver] (Okay Gaki, have fun man. Sorry I didn't get on earlier)

[Morgan Lake] ((I actually need to go pretty soon, too. Midnight on a school night and all.))

[Solomon Quicksilver] He stares across the table quietly at Ashley for a moment. Considering. A hand comes up, as though to stroke a beard, and grasps at empty air. His brows raise slightly, he looks down for a moment, then drops his hand away and sits up straighter.

"That's true." His hands writhe together for a moment, getting a tighter grip on each other. Then loosening. "There is enough room there for one room... perhaps." He tilts his head, looks away a moment. A stray lock of hair falls free from one ear and drifts into his vision. He reaches up and swats it away, tucking it back, with an irritated gesture. "And if it were established... I believe I would be an excellent Praeco."

Returning his gaze to Ashley.

[Ashley McGowen] She looks at Solomon, that furrow between her eyes appearing once more as he says there might be enough for one room. The Tytalan raises a hand, resting her jaw in the L shape formed between thumb and forefinger. "So far you've been pretty uninvolved in city politics and events, Solomon," she says. "Which we need. So I'd also put myself forward."

She eyes him for a second more. "Either way, the position should go to the strongest of us here, and I wouldn't let you go unchallenged even if I agreed on your appointment. It might be better to decide it in open certamen, if we had a circle."

Which they don't, as yet. "If you're unwilling to lend Blackstone Castle, I'd be more than happy to see if I could divert funds into establishing a house."

[Morgan Lake] There's hesitation here, but it's slight - with the establishment of her new identity, Morgan'd been able to apply for some merit-based scholarships that she hadn't bothered with before, since her tuition, room and board were paid for, so it leaves her a little play in her accounts. "I would contribute as well, of course. And, since there are four of us and any votes could well end in a tie, I would like to nominate Kage Jakes as a tie breaking vote." Again, a hint of hesitation, followed by, "If I'm not overstepping any bounds, that is."

[Solomon Quicksilver] He stares back at Ashley. Unperturbed, apparently. Smiling thinly. "Yes, your sort are like that." He leans back in his chair a moment. Considers her for that time. Then flicks a glance at the other two. "If we had a circle, yes, that might be possible." His folded hands shift a little, fingers sliding between fingers.

"I..." He tilts his head and turns it off to one side. As though hearing or seeing something, in the next room, that no one else does. "I do not believe I know of one in the area." A slight frown etches his lips, crinkles the edges of his eyes, then smooths away.

"But I am... willing to offer Blackstone Castle with some conditions..." Then he turns his head back to face them.

[Ashley McGowen] "Kage is an orphan. It would be highly inappropriate for her to have a deciding vote in Order business. How do you expect a non-Hermetic to know which of us is appropriate to represent the Tradition in the city?" Ashley asks, with a sidelong look toward Morgan. And a frown. Kage and Ashley are friends (are they?) but there is still a strict divide between them when it comes to matters of Tradition, all told.

Solomon says he'll lend the castle with conditions, and Ashley looks back over at him and considers. "What are those?" A pause. "And I'm sure we could locate a circle. Possibly not too far out of Chicago, even. I think it's the best way...not enough people here for an actual vote. Or a fair one."

[Morgan Lake] "Kage knows everyone involved, I do believe, and while she may not have the firmest grasp on Order politics, she does know who will be most accepted by the rest of the city, which may well be important as we grow. Orphan, yes. Knowledgeable, also yes. My secondary suggestion would be Wharil, but the same issues apply to him and some others as well."

She shrugs, and a glance moves from Ashley to Solomon and back - Basil is listening, she knows, but that's all he's doing for now. "Without that vote, we have the potential for being stalemated for goodness knows how long, which limits our efficiency and potential both. Obviously it's not a thing that needs to be decided tonight, but it is one we'll need to consider before too long."

[Solomon Quicksilver] "Yes, there may be one..." Murmured faintly. To himself. Then he abruptly brings his gaze back to Morgan and Ashley.

"An Orphan? Deciding the moves of the Hermetics in Chicago? I think not." Coldly slapping down Morgan's suggestion. His tone dry, and maybe a little scornful.

"As for conditions." Looking back to Ashley. "I will have to consider. Greater safety in one room and any prestige that comes from having such a house within my own, will have to be weighed against the lack of security and possible new threats that could assail my home."

[Ashley McGowen] "Order business is Order business," Ashley says, shaking her head as Morgan continues. "The person that's going to lead us isn't for the member of another Tradition to decide." There's a look in her apprentice's direction. It isn't that Ashley doesn't recognize what Morgan is trying to do - it's that Morgan's suggestion seems to have run afoul of Ashley's bizarre-but-present sense of ethics.

Another look toward Solomon. "Give us your conditions when you have them together, then. If they're unsuitable, we'll find another means. As for settling who should be Praeco...I think in the absence of a circle, we should take a vote here and, assuming there is a tie, find some other challenge to settle it."

[Morgan Lake] Morgan shrugs, and nods - it's not a thing she's taking personally, this denial of her suggestion. She is, after all, an apprentice in the company of Adepts. From what she's read (and goodness knows, she's read a lot), she may well be lucky that all that's come of her audacity is being told no. So from here, it's watching and listening.

[Solomon Quicksilver] He gave her a steady look. Smiling thinly at Ashley. Cold hard brown eyes. A look that she's never gotten from Solomon. His fingers twitch. And he tilts his head a little. Almost birdlike. His voice becoming laced with false friendliness. "But this one..." Flicking a glance to Morgan. "Is your apprentice. And may be swayed by the natural attachment, or animosity, that forms between Pater and Apprentice. I am not sure that would be a 'fair' vote, as you say."

He leans back again. "But I am willing to commit to... some sort of challenge."

[Morgan Lake] An eyebrow raises at this, and Morgan speaks, clear. She's rarely been lacking in confidence, this girl, but there's something new there, now, a lightness (and weight) of truth. "Are you questioning my ethics, Solomon? Were I incapable of setting my feelings for my mentor aside for this sort of thing, I would abstain. But as it stands, my feelings have little bearing on the matter at hand."