It was after sundown, but not yet late enough that Washington Park had cleared of visitors. Joggers ran in staggered numbers down the winding trails. A group of teenagers occupied one of the fields for a game of soccer, shouting rambunctiously over muted din of passing cars. A few couples were playing doubles in the tennis court.
Ian wasn't running tonight, as he often did. Instead he occupied a patch of ground beneath a couple of tall, overhanging trees. The grass beneath his feet was cold and brittle from winter, but the unseasonably warm temperatures had melted the last snowfall. It'd been like that for months, snowing and melting in sporadic bursts.
He was rehearsing something. Or at least, it looked it. Testing out how certain moves flowed and letting them settle into his muscle memory. Dancing alone in the park at night without music. Stopping and starting periodically with slow, measured movements. His expression was focused and withdrawn. With the temperature in the 40's, he had on only a sleek black windbreaker over his athletic clothes (the lower half of which consisted of running shoes and a pair of 3/4 length sweats with cargo pockets.)
Grace
The park holds a special place in Grace's heart. She knows she's not alone in coming to see the lake, just for the prospect of getting to talk to The Message again. But today has her wondering why...
Why did she decide to step out of the nice warm Inside and go to the Big Room? It's a refrigerator in here. Colder than a refrigerator, even. At least she had the presence of mind to bundle up in her coat, gloves, and that scarf Kalen bought her for Christmas. His gifts are practically the only vehicle through which Grace manages to show a sense of fashion. Underneath all that, she's got jeans and old sneakers on. It's a strange mix of upscale cashmere, wool, and grubby. Whatever, eh? It's not like she cares.
There's a trail of crushed crunchy grass behind her that meanders, because this free spirit does not enjoy being constrained by sidewalks. And then, she sees Ian. It's hard to mistake him, even at a distance. Few other people in the city are such graceful dancers. The meandering stops, and instead, she shuffles over to him in a straight line, hands in her pockets to keep warm.
Arionna de la Babin
[feeelsins the feels]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )
Arionna de la Babin
Arionna was not jogging. She was not playing soccer. She was not dancing or engaging in any form of physical activity. Instead she does what she often does, and she simply walks. Spring is coming, a season her mother would rejoice in, being her own embodiment of it. Odd how Ari took to winter; the season of death and slumber. With the last throes of winter so near, it seemed only right that she should walk and enjoy what little remained.
The moon would be peeking over soon, and she would feel the pull of it. But for now... she only walked.
The others slid into her perception soon enough, though the true intensity of it was deeply muted compared to their previous encounters. It might be her own ties with the moon, or perhaps...she was merely preoccupied in her thoughts. The cup of coffee in her hand expelled steam through the small hole, and Arionna took a moment to sip from it. Did she dare it? T hat was often the million dollar question. Was it worth it?
Ultimately, she decided on a small, and almost insignificant 'yes.' Her steps deviated, moving slowly towards the sensation.
Ian
[oh look, resonance]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )
Ian
Temperature could be such a subjective thing. For someone from a warm climate, 40-odd degrees might seem like scarf weather. For someone used to the cold, it felt like spring.
He didn't look up at first when he felt Grace drawing near, keeping his focus on what he was doing. His awareness of her was an instinctive thing - the way he was aware of the trees and the wind. He heard the shuffle of her feet behind him. Felt her resonance shift and soar. She was something familiar. He never seemed to mind when she watched him.
Arionna was... less familiar. But her approach was slow and distant. Ian waited until she was within easy earshot before he stopped dancing and turned to regard first Grace and then her. Grace got a small, knowing smile. (It always seemed like he was keeping some kind of secret.)
"What, no basketball tonight?"
Grace
[Magedar!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Grace
"I don't basketball," Grace says, in a complete lie. "I just sometimes crash other people's games when they beg me to. You must have me confused with someone who owns..." balls? No. That would be bad. Don't say that. "Sporting equipment."
She skips up, breathing in the cold. And she is cold, this southern desert creature. Phoenix is not known for its freezing temperatures, after all. She almost doesn't tie it to Arionna, but then... oh yes. Her.
Oh well. You shouldn't let people get to you, any more than you should the cold. Arionna is her Arionna's problem to deal with, as we all are. Still, one of Grace's hands pokes out of her coat, gives Ari a wave. It's a brief thing. Hopefully, it won't be seen as too fucking altruistic.
Arionna de la Babin
If Ari had felt supremely comfortable with the situation, and the people, she might have found Grace's demeanor amusing; in some way she still did. They both seemed to lack social capabilities, though in amazingly different ways. Perhaps that's (part of) the reason why they don't get along quite so well. The others were...self evident to those in the know of her person.
She pauses nearby, close enough to talk, far enough to give them all space from her, more for her than them. "You're doing better." Better from last they met, when he left rather quickly. Grace's small wave casts a glance her way and Ari....sips her coffee. Not an overly active individual.
Ian
Arionna surmised that Ian was doing better than he had been upon their last encounter, to which Ian offered her a look that felt blandly cryptic (almost dismissive.) He didn't humor the assumption with a verbal response. Instead, his attention slid back to Grace.
"Oh I see. That was a different Grace I played last time. Your more fun twin. Does that make you the evil one?" His aloof expression melted in a subtle grin. "You should give me her number." He trotted back a few steps, glancing at the tree overhead. There was an hint of animal energy in the way he moved. The ready way he rested his weight on the balls of his feet, like any moment he might spring into motion. And sure enough, a moment later he jumped up and grabbed the overhanging branch, hanging there experimentally to be sure the tree would hold his weight before he swung and landed closer to Arionna.
"Arionna, right? From the Pho place?"
Grace
"I have to grow a goatee before I can be considered the evil one. Duh. I though everyone knew that," Grace says, totally dry.
She watches him do his little jumps and swings, and rolls her eyebrows. But there's a little smirk there too. She's only slightly mocking his showing off. After all, if you've got it, flaunt it, right?
"Arionna and I, uh... at least share one thing in common. We both have an appreciation for noodle shops."
Arionna de la Babin
"They also cackle. Villains cackle. Terribly. Sometimes they have a mustache that they twirl. A sort of Dali-esque, though hardly as grandiose. " She cast a glance towards Grace. "I think the mustache would suit you. But now the usual goatee. Far too tame and boring." Though Grace wasn't on her list of most entertaining people. She only seemed less of a mundane, and more of the sort of person who might twirl their mustache, if given one.
Maybe Ian was showing off. That was typical of men, was it not? A youthful male, in his reproductive prime meets a youthful girl in her reproductive prime, and naturally one must woo the other. So does the dance go. So when he hangs, and jumps, Arionna takes a step back and gives a small cant of her head. Mostly his actions are interesting (though it didn't help that he did have a very nice figure and face).
"Yes. I enjoy food. Culturally different. Noodles is part of that. "
Arionna de la Babin
[ARE.. noodles ARE. holy crap english]
Cala
Doors open for her.
They always have.
Small doors and large doors, locked doors, every door she has ever encountered. Some of the doors are more metaphorical than others, but even the most literal ones - they click.
Open.
--
Here's one of the arts a refugee learns: how to disappear in plain sight. How to slip beneath the ordinary radar. How to seem like part of the room. How to drift with but not of the crowd. How to settle for a time - to alight - against a bench, on one's own haunches, meditative as the light sky darkens and the strangers start to desert the park. Time to go, which she knows with a glance at the sky and something else - something (distant) - that pulls her upright from the energy-conserving reverie, the slip-through-the-spaces determination with which she lives this life.
Across the lake, just on the other side of the boathouse, someone looks up.
Senses the skim of energy in the air. Closes her eyes to feel the beat of it against her senses.
And: gets up.
Walks the other way.
Cala
Too far away for Arionna to sense her, but both Ian and Grace feel the brief brush of a stranger's resonance against their senses. Distant, then gone. It feels like a key sliding into a lock. Simple, slight.
Cala
(That was just a cameo, guys. I've gotta get up early to hike through the neverending snowstorm and below 0 temperatures to get to work tomorrow, so need to get my rest now. :) night!)
Ian
"I would genuinely like to see Grace grow a Dali mustache," Ian mused, eyeing Grace's features in this sharply appraising way - as though he were painting the picture in his mind. "She wouldn't be the cackling type though. She'd be the kind who sneaks up on people."
Maybe he was showing off, a little. Maybe he was just finding ways to keep his body warmed up. Arionna was a good 6 years younger than he was, which... was not an insignificant number. (Though Elijah had been the same age, hadn't he?) Either way, the gesture was more playful than luring. And when Arionna stepped back to widen the space between them, he didn't follow.
"I prefer sushi, but Pho will do in a pinch..."
His voice paused and trailed off in a beat of silence, and he glanced over his shoulder as though he'd heard (or felt) something that distracted him. A brief skim of his eyes across the lake. Hunting. But whatever he was looking for, he turned away a moment later.
"You go to school?" (This to Arionna.)
Grace
Holy shit. Arionna made a joke. Grace actually smiles, and fake-twirls an invisible mustache. She catches Ian painting the 'stache on with his eyes, and laughs when he says she'd sneak up on people. "I totally would. You would know."
It's then that a... slightly familiar resonance slips across her perception. She looks in that direction too, suddenly a look of intense focus comes over her, like the bird is seeking prey.
"I think... I've felt that before. That... opening."
Arionna de la Babin
"...and ties them up on the railroad tracks? Grace would be an old western villain? Fascinating." The more she looks at Grace, the more she can see it. Yes, maybe Grace would have a Dali mustache, and tie up people while she cackles behind her teeth. Grace was becoming more like a cartoon villain.
They perk up, sense it. It's on the edge of Ari's senses. There, but not there. She doesn't know it, though Grace has. Another magi, and likely just as sickeningly joyful as the rest.
"Yes. Sushi is enjoyable. Not octopi. A dwindling species with a large level of intelligence. Squid, however, are delicious." There's another slow sip of the coffee as her attention fully centers on Ian. "I do. I study biology."
Ian
"I don't eat octopus meat either." Though he didn't bother to explain why. His eyes seemed more considering when they lingered on Arionna, and he uttered a soft, subvocal hum. Quiet interest. (At her area of study? He'd never really expressed much interest in science before.)
Grace drew further attention to whatever had caused that brief stir across the lake, and Ian's focus shifted to her a moment. "Think it's something worth checking out?"
Grace
"I don't know. I don't think so. There was this person at a bookstore Elijah and I went to. Felt like that. A little. And then she fled like we were trying to chase her instead of just saying hi. I tried to send a text, you know? But it wouldn't go through. Like she didn't have a phone. Ever. I don't think running her down would do any good. I imagine someone like that really does not want to be cornered."
Grace keeps looking in that direction, but the sensation passes over again, and then... apparently we are talking about octopus now. Grace does not know quite how that happened, but okay. Squid and stuff.
"I like squid. It's chewy. And yeah, it would make sense that I would be chased down by Dudley Do-Right. I'm just despicable like that. Hey, maybe that could be Alex's new nickname?" She laughs. Apparently the strange woman across the lake has already been forgotten.
Arionna de la Babin
"Most of you don't give off a particularly inviting sensation. I wouldn't give fault to her for keeping her distance. One human may be worthwhile, but a cat knows better than to take the chance unless the benefits exceed the costs. Though, it takes a particular personality to attract an animal with the good sense to keep away."
A brow slowly lifts as she glances back at Ian, though her attention is sliding between them both a little. "You'll need a top hat if you're going to tie people up. It's classic. "
Ian
"She didn't feel like a cat to me."
(More like a key.)
Ian took Grace and Arionna's assessments and added them to his own. But in the end, the girl was just that - another new face in a very big city. Someone who may or may not prove worthy of interest. Someone who may or may not be dangerous. If she wanted to avoid them, then he'd let her be. (For now.)
"As for tying people up, I think a dominatrix outfit would be more suitable than a top-hat. Lots of black leather." A beat. "Come to think of it, Grace might be good at that."
His gaze slid from Grace to Arionna. "Why biology?"
Grace
Ian says the words 'dominatrix outfit' and Grace's eyes widen. When he goes on to say she might be good at that, her brain goes 'poink' and refuses to budge for a bit.
That, and she turns a bright red. Thank goodness it's dark.
"Uhhhh."
Brilliant. Utterly brilliant.
"Yeah, Ari. Why biology?"
Arionna de la Babin
Her brows furrow a little at Ian, almost a sort of puzzlement. "It was a metaphor. One doesn't need to feel as such, to be associated if the association fits the behavior. Cats never liked to be cornered, and move away from strange individuals. If she follows the same, then a cat she is like. Even if she lacks the hunting instinct." There's a small quirk of the corner of her lips at Ian. "Grace as a dominatrix?" Ari focused her attention solely on Grace and her figure. "In a comedy, perhaps. She lacks the demeanor. "
And turn the conversation away from Grace and her Dominatrix tendencies... or Ian's fantasy of the sort...right to her own personal interests. "Why not?" She lifted a hand to pop the top of her coffee from the cup. "Someone has to defend the world from humans. Never seems to be enough of them."
Ian
Ian's laugh was a quiet thing. A breath of air and a slight upturn of his lips. "I got the metaphor." There had to be some kind of irony in debating the nature of felines with Ian, of all people, but if he had any further feelings on the matter, he kept them to himself.
"Thinking of going into environmental science? I have a friend who does that. It's... not a bad use of one's time." Though he wouldn't have phrased it the way she did. As though humans were not a part of the world.
"I was dance major. Which is not at all useful." His smile there was self-deprecating, though it was a fair bet that he did not, in fact, think that dancing was useless. (Certainly not the way that he did it.)
Grace
Grace, recovering from core dump, gives Arionna a confused look. How can anyone be so... so...
Ugh. Let it go. Make a snowman. Or whatever the fuck that Disney movie says. The cold never bothered me anyway?
"I was a CS major. Who would have guessed, huh?"
Arionna de la Babin
"Ecology and Biodiversity. Conservation."
"Dance is art. Art is useful. Art encourages creativity and appreciation for form, color, and motion. A society without art, is a society that is not worth living. Scientific innovation can't occur without art, and so the opposite is true. " Maybe she missed some cue to tell her that she really didn't need to go on her own little speech. But there it was.
Her head had tilted a little to Ian, but now she was looking to Grace momentarily. "Hm. Strange. I might have placed you in Fashion Design."
Ian
She didn't need to, no. But all the same, Arionna's response got a long, meaningful look from Ian. Enigmatic and subtle in the way it warmed his dark eyes. "Apparently we agree on something."
If he'd known her better, he probably would have done something else. But they didn't, so he left it there.
As for Grace...
"I never did ask you about that, did I? Guess I kind of assumed." (More than likely, for someone like Ian, Virtual Adept was basically synonymous with computer nerd.)
Grace
And Grace might have placed you in Mass Murder, Arionna but hey... Grace gives her a strange little circular nod of the head. A yes-no.
Fashion design.
"I'm not anymore. I had to skip class too much for silly little things like catching Awakened Ebola and later, for having all my tech spontaneously crash whenever I touched it. Hard to explain to your profs that you can't be in class because if you so much as look at the projector wrong it'll start noping out at you."
She sighs, remembering. But then...
"I was advancing anyway. Not much to learn anymore when the universe teaches you so much more."
Arionna de la Babin
It's not lost on her that her own humor is rarely delivered well. Social interactions were never her area. If it had been a school subject, she would have failed it...miserably. Ah but she tries.
Her attention sits on Ian, taking in the look and lifting her brows in response. "Surprising. Isn't it? I'd be interested to know what form of dance you specialize in, if any. I admit a fondness for tribal forms."
Grace and Arionna will never see eye to eye; she knows that. When Grace speaks, it's good Arionna knows how to hide her own emotions, else she might have rolled her eyes. But...Grace might have done the same for her own perspectives. "Yes, it would be hard to say that. They'd likely sent you to a psychiatrist."
She takes in a bit of air and lets it out slowly, pausing to slide the buzzing phone from her pocket. "Was good to actually meet you." She threw out to Ian, then lifted her hand just a little, much like Grace's tiny wave from earlier. "And seeing you again. Try not to look at electronics funny. If they have half the temperament that their designers do, they'll likely take offense quite easily."
Arionna turned on the ball of her foot and began to head the way she had come prior. No more walking for tonight. There was much to do at 'home.'
Ian
Arionna took her leave of them, and Ian watched her go. Perhaps another day he might have cause to answer her question, but for now the hour was getting late. She needed to head home, and so did he. He stayed for a few moments longer though, standing beside Grace with his breath making little wisps of steam in the air.
"I'm sorry that happened to you." His voice was noticeably more weighty than it had been earlier. Maybe he understood what it was like to have your life thrown into disarray. What it was like to give up something you loved because of something else that you had no control over. Maybe it wasn't like that for her. As she'd said, she was already evolving beyond her courses. But still, it had to be a hard thing to do at the time. Maybe it still was.
"Life can be fucking bullshit sometimes."
He let out a breath, allowing the muscles in his body to relax. To wind down. "I should get going too."
Grace
"I did. Go to a psychiatrist. Once. It sucked," Grace says, stumbles over her words a bit. As much as Arionna puts her on edge, at least she's not Garrett Franklin. At least it took Ari more than a few minutes to get on her bad side. Garrett made her want to scream in pure rage. Arionna just gets... pity. And confusion.
And again, Ari gets that utterly confused look as she leaves. Grace is pretty laid back, or at least she thinks so. If anyone has a temperament issue, it isn't her. Right? Surely.
Ian says he's sorry that happened to her, and she looks to him instead of Arionna's retreating back. "Well, it can be, sometimes. But I have to think, if I never had any obstacles to overcome, I would never have found out how capable I am at overcoming. Sometimes the bullshit, while yeah, it's total bullshit -- still gives you the opportunity to teach yourself who you are."
She gives him the smile that Arionna didn't receive, because she was being unfathomable. "Walk you back to the parking lot?"
Ian
"How very enlightened of you," Ian teased, though he didn't necessarily disagree.
Walk you back to the parking lot?
"Sure. You can protect me from roving hoards of teenage girls."
(He was joking. Right?)
Ian grinned and tapped Grace lightly on the shoulder, turning in the direction of the lot. "Let's go."
Grace
"Well, apparently, I do like to tie them up a lot. So..."
[P.S. -- Wrap joke!]
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