Arionna
[Do you think the chat is onto us?]
Arionna
She had spent the previous night with Lavinia. It was a strange relationship they had now, one that was tentatively mentor and student, though Arionna resisted such tutelage while Lavinia struggled not to push her away. But they were growing together, whether Arionna wanted to believe it or not. Lavinia had been honest with her, she knew that much, and had told her blatantly that she believed in her, not just as a person, but as a person who could be something. Something beautiful, something devout, something akin to the Morrigan.
The event was going to stick with her, no matter where she went, and sit in the back of her mind while she tried to go about her normal activities.
Sundays were sometimes quiet because people often had religious services. Cafes were not as cramped, libraries weren't as full until the evening... it was, for the most part, enjoyable. Ari, for her part, had decided to venture out for more enjoyable things to read. Since the semester was over, she had plenty of free time.
So she stood in a bookstore, moving among the shelves casually, in search of something that had caught her eye. Anything really...she wasn't even seeking a particular subject this time.
Arionna
[perc + alert]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (6, 6, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )
Untamed
The bookstore isn't where one goes to find crowds. There's still a woman behind the counter, bored and sneaking a glance at her phone every now and then. There are the few others who find themselves wandering the aisles with Arionna, but they are easily ignored and not currently in view. It's so quiet here she could imagine herself completely alone. Quiet and cold, in the graveyard of trees.
Because, this is a place of tree-memory. It has a distinct smell of old paper, and it wants silence.
Around a corner, there is a new smell -- something fresh. Pine needles and rot. It's almost as if the books are coming alive again. And she sees, on the placard (which usually tells which section of the bookstore you're in -- Self-Help, Religion, Fiction...) says "Forest".
Drifting through the air, small as dust motes (and they could be dismissed as such, if she were not quite so sharp) a few tiny flakes of snow.
Arionna
And were it any other thing, she might have dismissed it.
But while Arionna was a wary creature, she was also a curious one. The scent of pine drifted in her nose; she inhaled even deeper, closed her eyes briefly even. She might have mistaken it for perfume, or some other scent, but no...it was unmistakable. The scent was real. The flakes were real..
Her fingers drifted along the spines of the books as she stepped along her aisle and turned to make her way towards the Forest aisle. Arionna inhales, and not just because of the scent, but because she's not even sure if she's dreaming anymore. And if she's dreaming...
Ari stops briefly to glance at the ground, to make certain she isn't stepping into another brea trap in her own head, and then she progresses into Forest. Not all dreams are bad Ari..
Untamed
Not all dreams are bad. Some are, though.
Stepping into the Forest aisle, Arionna finds that the carpeting has turned into springy pine-needle litter, the lights dim, the air colder than she remembers, fogging up with her breath. Books are twisted into strange shapes around her, caught halfway between tree and word, until she progressesand all semblance of civilization vanishes.
The woods sit in twilight, in silence like only the lonely places of the world can bring. Most of the time, such lonely places are not quiet -- they hum with the activity of a living organism, but right now it is as if every cell of this organism is holding its breath, watching, waiting. Some wait out the moment in fear, others because of the promise of scraps. The trees wait because that is the way of trees.
The air is icy cold, ground crunches underneath with a crust of snow. Whatever happened to spring? It isn't here, and never was.
Arionna finds herself on her back (and wasn't she walking before?) There is something heavy on top of her -- something alive and terribly fast, with a familiar scent. She's been here before. Somewhere like here. Only then, she got away.
These are the sensations that Arionna might have time to process before the cougar's fangs penetrate her eye sockets. She can see through her removed eyes still -- can watch her own bleeding face through his maw of teeth, until he closes his mouth, blotting out her sight.
The pain is, momentarily, the most excruciating that she has yet experienced, until it, along with the weight on her chest sublimates into the frigid air, leaving her to lie on the forest floor.
The trees are all she can hear, creaking in the wind.
Arionna
It's comfortingly surreal, at least in the beginning. The forest generally was. It felt like home most of the time, especially when the cold sank in. She shivered a little against it, but let out a soft sigh of relief. That didn't, of course, mean it wasn't worrisome. Wait, was she dreaming? Did she never leave the house? Fall asleep in the store?
No time for that. Move forward. Dreams had purpose after all, as your mother would say. Remember them. Write them down. They will whisper truths to you.
Maybe that's true. It it was, she would have to wonder at what point the dreams felt she needed such violence from her own to tell her something. She might wonder that later. Maybe.
But for now, as she lay on her back, uncertain of how exactly she found herself there, she felt pain. It was more intense than the bear trap, and that said something. Ari screamed. Her lungs expressed her pain with all their might and Ari just screamed. She screamed until the lights went out, until she was alone.
Darkness.
Arionna lifted her hands, lightly pressing her palms against her eyes as if to question if that had just happened or maybe... maybe she was about to wake. Elijah had said her cougar was her guide. Something that helped her along her path, but now she felt betrayed. Why would she need that? In what way would that help her now?
She rolled on her side, pressing her palms into the ground to slowly push herself up. She's never felt more afraid. She can't see. The thing she relied on most was gone, and there was no one to help. Suddenly she had the desire to cry, to give up and accept it. Was that the purpose? To tell her to give up?
No.
Arionna has never given up. No matter what, she's always tried to live...just long enough.
Arionna
[perc +aware]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Untamed
Something smiles. Arionna can feel it inside her chest as she rises, defiant. Apparently, something else inside her doesn't want her to give up either.
There is no one around to help, she thinks, but then -- she was just in a place with people, wasn't she?
And she can hear them now. Low, whispering.
"Is she okay?"
"Just ignore it. Probably just tired, come on."
People's disembodied voices surround her, some more compassionate than others. They can tell that something's not quite right, but they don't seem to realize that her eyes are bleeding. Nobody mentions what should be painfully obvious.
Elijah -- she has him in her thoughts. He said her cougar was her guide? Maybe it is. Maybe...
"Ari?"
It's his voice. She can smell the maleness of him. There is no sight to tell her anything else.
"What's up?"
He doesn't seem to notice either.
But Ari -- she can feel her own eyes. They're a piece of herself, and they are moving. The frozenness that she is feels like it is receding into the forest. If she wants them, she must claim them. If she is weak, she will not.
It is that simple. Life is a struggle, is it not?
Arionna
Somehow she had hoped, expected even, that she'd be completely alone. Completely. But no. She's not. She's not as alone as she had hoped, originally. She's accustom to being the odd one out, the one people comment on...and it doesn't phase her as much as the fact that no one seems to notice. Is she mad? Is it all in her head?
Her breathing grows shallow, labored as she attempts to come to grips, rather quickly, with the loss of her eyes, the blindness of people around her and...
Elijah? "I can't see." It's soft. A whine almost. But she has no time. They are still there.
Her eyes aren't gone. They're just somewhere else. She needs those. She could rely on someone else to help her, but she needs them now. Ari orients herself in the direction she can feel them moving, and she begins to run. "I have to find them." That's all she gives in return, all she says as she takes off, trying to use her own hands to steer her in their direction. That's what has always driven her. What she needs to continue. She wants to ask for help, just as he told her once, but there is no time.
Untamed
She leaves Elijah, and oh -- one can only imagine the poor lost puppy look he gives her in response. He also seems content to let her flee, in a rather un-Elijah-like fashion.
She runs. Blindly. And she is unused to blindness. Perhaps, given time, she might become accustomed to a lack of sight -- might fashion for herself a cane or learn to hear the shape of things, but this is not a thing that has happened yet.
In fear, like prey, she runs. Like a weak thing, she runs. A predator should know better, she thinks -- or is that her thought? Something else's?
Her strength is right there, and she denies it.
And the forest is not kind. It is no kinder than life. It shelters no weakness. Ari falls, her foot tangled in a root she didn't see, momentum carrying her no further than the ground, filling her nostrils with snow and dirt, knocking the wind out of her.
Arionna
[Life magic - sensing life, Correspondence - sensing spatial relations - Dif 3 +1 fast casting] -wp
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]
Arionna
[extend] +1 dif
Dice: 1 d10 TN5 (10) ( success x 1 )
Arionna
It's the fear. The fear that has pushed her forward. The fear of losing something so important. But something tell her, reminds her that it's fear that defines who we are. The predator only becomes the prey when it is fearful. Predators, true predators, never run. They struggle, they limp, but they never run. They live or die. They take the life of the runners.
She sits on the ground momentarily, enough to get her breath back, then rises to her feet. Her lips tighten as she breathes in. The blood she can feel along her face. The blood she knows rests where her sight use to be, and it's this that she uses to speak out quickly to her gods. "Nomino ventum se apud me nunc circumdederunt me, et in terram oculi mei neque vestigium . Manibus vestris ut ambularetis ego vobiscum." It's the cold of her ski, the cold of her self that she sends out into the land and into the wind, asking it to carry her, and to guide her, lest she give in to her instinct to run.
Untamed
She speaks words of power, names the wind, calls out for help from without -- and something answers from within.
Arionna cannot see, but she can sense the presence of life about her with a clarity that rivals sight. The trees sway, there are animals here that she knew were there to begin with -- a rat tunneling away from the noise, an owl watching in the high branches, annoyed about the disturbance that cause the rat to hide.
It's not far to where the cougar, almost a beacon in the darkness (from how very much she wants to find him) has carried his prize. He stretches his limbs, looks at her, stares into her empty face, and turns to walk away again.
There is another behind her, approaching slowly. Human in form.
Arionna
She turns a little where she stands, almost looking over her shoulder, even if she can't see the one who approaches. Ari turns back to her game, shifts between the trees to take her away from her straight path. Diagonal, zig zags, never straight. She wonders if her follower is hunting her as she is hunting the cougar, or if he is someone she knows. But she presses forward, no longer running but following the feel of the puma, and her eyes.
But Ari keeps the presence of the other close to her mind, keeps her focus on him. The cougar has no need to run, so he won't, she thinks. But they will meet, because she will find him. He must sleep sometime. He must rest. And when he does...
But for now, the human. Hunter? Friend? Tourist? No. They are in a forest now, not the store. Anything here must be in the same world as she. Arionna drops her bag, pushes off her shoes from her feet and keeps walking, pressing her feet carefully into the ground. Who is stalking who, she wonders.
Untamed
She walks, this time being careful, this time using her brain and her skill and her will. She can 'see' the life around her as an echo, and it is everywhere. The trees are no longer a thing that stand in her way to trip her up.
There seems to be a break in the trees ahead of her, and that human-shaped creature still follows her. Whoever it is, they don't chase and they don't threaten, but they keep going.
With her shoes gone, she can feel the snow's cold cracks and the spines of pine needles. Perhaps she doesn't care about the discomfort. Perhaps it's a good thing that she decided to use another sense, because the pine litter and snow gives way to slick rock, and then?
There is a tug at her back. The human-shaped thing has her by the fabric of her dress, holding her.
"Stop. You will fall," says Lavinia from behind her. Her voice echoes as if from the depths of a chasm. The yawning thing she nearly lept into, devoid of life with which to see.
Arionna
The snow was a fascinating thing. It was cold, wet, and it hurt sometimes, but it kept you awake, aware. Your feet became your sensors, even if they felt half numb. She liked the pain of it, the reminder that she was exactly where she thought she was, and a reminder that this is her time.
She walked, ever mindful of the presence behind her, especially when it took hold of her clothing. Arionna stopped. She hadn't noticed it before...the chasm. She hadn't see the drop even with her senses. But now...now she saw it, in a manner of speaking. Arionna didn't move, except to give a look over her shoulder at the woman behind her. "How did you find me?" But it feels like an odd question, if only because Lavinia was not entirely normal. She was something else.
Her lips tightened, and she felt a momentary burst of defiance, but...
But there was a hole right there, and while she could thrash and cry, and yell about how Lavi can't tell her what to do...it was in her best interest not to. Arionna stepped back slowly, enough that she was not in so much danger anymore. "Did the cougar go in there?" Because she doesn't know. Did he? Did he leap in?
Untamed
How did you find me?
"I have always been here," comes the response.
Did the cougar go in there?
"No," she says, terse, and to the point, that. "He is beyond this cliff."
So much for finding her eyes, then. Not unless...
"Would you allow me to help you?"
Strange words. Not, 'Do you want help?' or 'I could help you.' but something else: would Arionna allow it?
Arionna
Allow.
She could see, enough, she knew. But somehow she had missed where the cougar went. A few months back her response would have been an immediate 'No.' She would have said it harshly, even stalked off to do it on her own, as she always has. But times have changed and now she hesitates, unsure of how she feels about it.
Lavinia has promised that she would help her. Train her well enough that she won't need Lavi anymore. Promised to help her find a closer path to The Morrigan. And she's said all this without lying. That much Ari knew. Lavinia hadn't lied to her. Elijah hadn't lied to her. There were two whole people in the world she could trust, mostly, because they had always been honest, or honest enough.
Her lips tighten, and she reminds herself that through all of this, she has to live. She can be defiant, she can struggle, she can even yell and scream at the people around her, but if she does it just because, she's hurting herself. Lavinia could have let her fall. She could have pushed her. She could have been quiet while Ari walked right in.
But she didn't. Isn't that the definition of someone you can trust? A person who, at your weakest, won't take advantage of you? Won't let you fall? All the others had turned away when she wasn't compliant. She didn't bend to their wishes; didn't do what they wanted, and they left. They didn't deserve her trust because they only wanted to be friends so long as she did what they wanted.
Lavinia...Elijah...
It wasn't about bending to them. They bent to her.
She turned slowly to face Lavinia and held out her hand slowly, palm up. "It's obvious I can't find him on my own. You've hunted worse creatures and lived. I'd like your assistance." Saying it was still hard. It was always hard. But at least she could say it now.
Untamed
"You're getting stronger," says Lavinia, and her hand comes up to hold Arionna's, slides down her arm, grasps her around the waist. Apparently, that's all that she needs to do to hold the young woman aloft.
Wings erupt from Lavinia's back, like the wings of a great black bird. It seems to complete her friend, in a strange way -- those wings fit, like they were always a part of her. And then?
Lavinia leaps.
And the dark place where there is no life to see does not drag her down.
It doesn't take Arionna either. Lavinia, once trusted, does not drop her.
To the angelic being, such a jump is like a hop over a puddle, but to Arionna it would have been death, that much is certain. Once on the other side, Lavinia lets her, gently, to the ground.
"Pride is a weakness," Lavinia says.
"And I suffer not the weak," says another voice, deep and dark.
Like that, Arionna's sight returns. From her eyes, under a cougar's mouth, she can see herself and a winged Lavinia side by side.
Arionna
She remembers, clearly, the first time she ever flew.
It was also the first time she could ever, truly, do magic. She had felt the wind at her wings, saw the world with the great, powerful eyes of the bird. She knew that this was what she had always wanted; to be a part of the world, not just as a human, but as everything. But flying... she longed to fly again.
Lavinia brought those memories back. And while she couldn't see as the bird did, and could only see through the eyes of her magic...and while she could not fly herself, she felt...
It felt wonderful again, even if it was only very brief.
It was a strange feeling to see herself from a third person. To act as if she were in control of some character not her own. Arionna knelt down slowly onto her knees. For her to give in, for her to really understand how much she needed someone else, she had to lose something so obvious and important to her. Something about that was telling.
"Pride...has it always been pride, Lavinia?" She lifts her head as if to look at her, but she can only see her across the way, from him. "I don't know how to not be proud. But..." Her face moves a little in the cougar's direction.
"Keep them then." She said, and it took effort to say it. She needed it, or did she? "Give them to The Morrigan." A devotion that Lavinia was trying to instill in her. Conviction to serve her goddess. Her lips tighten, thin out as she realizes what she's doing. But no... that's precisely it. She overcame herself when she lost what was most important. And to give it to the deity she's meant to serve...
Blood almost seems like such a ridiculously small gift to any god. "As my gift to her. My thanks."
Untamed
"You have come all of this way, but not for your eyes, have you? I think you see that now," says Lavinia, who strides up to the cougar, black-winged and elegant.
She takes Arionna's eyes from the ground, slides them onto a cord that she ties about her neck, like living jewels.
"In order to gain, you would suffer. To see, you must be blinded first. So be it. I accept your gift, that you might continue to grow in understanding."
The cougar pads over to Arionna's kneeling form, nuzzles her, marks her with his scent. It's a strange kind of cat-ritual. You are mine, he says, in body language. You are family. You are loved.
And oh -- the power courses through her. She feels the change come over her -- a bolt of raw strength infusing her soul.
"We will meet again."
The ground melts. Its coldness is replaced with warmth and the conformity of carpeting. The scent of pine needles leaves her, and the smell of dust and books returns. She is kneeling in between the stacks of books. And when she opens her eyes?
There is only the blackness of the deep forest.
"Is she okay?" someone says.
"Just ignore it. Probably just tired, come on," says someone else.
They don't see how powerful she is now.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Art Appreciation
Lucas Reed
One of the gallery spaces in the Art Network (a two-story Arts Center located on Santa Fe) was currently exhibiting a show by the artist Tadashi Hayakawa titled Echoes of Heritage. It was by chance that Lucas happened to be walking by. He might not have turned his head in time to see the poster, but he did. One of the artist's paintings was depicted on the print, and it caught his attention. Something about the colors and the pattern of the shapes. It stirred like an old memory - something he carried in a part of his soul that remembered another time (another place.) So he stopped there on the sidewalk, looking at the poster for a long, stilled moment. Then he blinked and glanced up at the building.
Why not?
He went inside, grabbing a brochure as he made his way up the stairs to the exhibit.
Kalen Holliday
[How distracted by Resonance are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 4, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Lucas Reed
[Edit: "He went inside, grabbing a brochure as he made his way through the door." (Because apparently I'm an idiot and this gallery is on the first floor.)]
Lucas Reed
[Also, if anyone wants to check this thing out: http://www.artworknetwork.com/currentexhibit.php]
Kalen Holliday
Kalen is drifting through the exhibit - half aware of the colors taking shape in the works of art before him and half still caught on butterfly wings.
The world is colors and light and he feels it more now in general and then more in specific as Lucas comes into the gallery. There have been days that he would have come straight up to Lucas-to greet or to challenge or to welcome. Tonight he keeps looking at the paintings. One of them reminds him of a tiger. And therefore of Ian.
At the moment though, he is standing before a portrait of some koi fish and wondering if they, creatures of ink and color and fate and dreams, would like to come sailing off of the canvas to swim through the air in the gallery.
What would all of these people do? Would they think it was as magnificent? He remembers that he was afraid when confronted with a larger world, but that larger world did arrive in the form of something trying to eat him. And magic, wild and instinctive and pure and glorious, saving him from being eaten.
Serafíne
(I may/may not join, so please no one wait for me! Just if the whim hits.)
Lucas Reed
[Awareness]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 4 )
Grace
[Awareness too]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 3 )
Lucas Reed
Lucas was somehow both easy and difficult to miss. Easy, because he was rather on the small side physically, and difficult because something about him felt so vivid and clear - all stark details and vibrant color. He also felt older than he looked. Like remembrance. Like these paintings, actually. Old and new all at once.
Kalen noticed him, but didn't look. Lucas noticed Kalen as well. He glanced toward him with wide, dark eyes, alert and interested (curious as much of him as he was of everything else in this new environment.) He didn't approach Kalen immediately though. Instead he wandered past a wall decorated in elegant black and white canvases. His eyes followed the brush strokes, curving around as he tilted his head - briefly enraptured.
Grace
Kit. Come help me pick out some paintings. The library needs more color.
If Grace were honest with herself, she'd ponder about Kalen's sanity, with that text. Such a request is like asking Pan Echeverría to come help pick out new servers. But let's be double-double honest -- she's not doing this to pick out something pretty for the library. She's mostly doing it to keep Kalen from buying the entire lot of paintings and leaving them with no funds with which to purchase new servers.
She's got her priorities straight, does Grace.
She only hopes she makes it there in time to keep him from spree-ing.
But, when she arrives, she doesn't sense the presence of her sometimes overly enthusiastic friend. She feels... something though. Someone(s)? The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she keeps on going. It's just that little bit of confusion, as she steps into the place, looks around.
She doesn't look like the kind of person who belongs in an art gallery. A nerdy tee shirt paired with jeans of the non-designer variety make up the majority of her wardrobe, and today is no different. Still, people might find it hard to consider her anything but the background noise.
Lavinia
[I wanna roll awareness!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Lavinia
She was wearing a suit. An honest-to-God, tailor-made perfect lines and seams suit. She wasn't sure what to wear to an art exhibit, especially one that she was showing up at alone. She found, however, that she rarely had the opportunity to wear her suit, so god dammit she was going to wear it. With heels, because fuck people who can't deal with a six and a half foot tall vision of angelic radiance. That was the thing about going alone places- she didn't have anyone to stand with. No one to impress upon her certain standards and responsibilities.
Lavinia could do what she damn well wanted.
So there she was, bright blue heels clicking and legs looking especially long. The pants sat high on her waist, the shirt tucked in and a nice, crisp white. The top button was unbuttoned; she wore a black tie anyway, jacket thrown over her shoulder with some gold pin on the lapel. She wore a men's watch, something that wasn't as nice as the suit but something she liked anyway. It wasn't so much a gift as it was that she stole it from a previous lover/devotee/student of celestial things. He didn't care that she kept the watch, she wore it sometimes to remember him, to wax nostalgic on better times.
Art had a tendency to do that with Lavinis, provoke introspection. She held a tiny blue bag with a tiny gold strap. Make your shoes match your bag, someone drilled it into her head and arguably this is the nicest the blonde-haired woman had looked in awhile. She was hovering by some picture that spoke more of movement than anything. The loop, something that made her think of ink being poured into water. She stood in front of a bench, one that she considered making use of.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen, because it was Oliver who greeted him as he came out of the dark, remembers him in some ways more clearly than he does Lavinia. He remembers the sense of Lavinia more than the person. He is not sure what he will call her.
He already calls Alyssa Angel.
They already have a Seraphine.
Kalen leaves Lavinia be for now, slipping through the gallery instead to meet Grace. He is unconcerned by the unexpected gathering. These are so very Denver. If the others stay, they will become accustomed. If they leave, as so many seem to....
Well. He can only hope they found what they were searching for before they moved on.
"Hey, Kit."
Grace
Bwa? Grace looks over Kalen like he's an alien. She even reaches out with a confused hand and sniffs the air around him.
"Kalen?"
The fuck?
"You're different. Way different."
She gets the sensation of a swirl of shattered colors, of stars, of something otherworldly. Like what's standing in front of her might just be alien indeed. It's enough to question all other evidence that Kalen is... Kalen. It's like coming across a good friend who's suddenly gained a foot in height.
Lucas Reed
"Lavinia." Luke's smile was broad and natural when he felt her come in; sensed her presence like a brilliant beacon of angelic light. She and Kalen had that in common (they both felt as though they'd descended from the heavens,) but Lavinia was at least a slightly familiar presence - and impossible to miss in every conceivable way. Luke managed to pull his attention away from the paintings long enough to approach her, tilting his head so that he could meet her eyes with his own. She was a full foot taller than he was, and standing beside each other, the differences in their appearance was stark.
"Nice to see you again." He glanced back at Kalen and Grace. "I guess I picked a good time to wander through the neighborhood."
(Yes, funny how that worked.)
He'd shaved today, so there was no evidence of the facial hair he'd been sporting on their last encounter, but the septum ring was still there. He'd also shaved his head recently, leaving only a fine layer of dark fuzz on his scalp. Unlike Lavinia, he hadn't bothered to dress up (that would have required advance knowledge of his plans.) Instead he wore a simple white t-shirt over a pair of red skinny jeans and a set of doc martens.
Lavinia
There's a way that she assesses new feelings and resonance. She marks it, closes her eyes for a second. She's feeling things out, trying to assess if the feelings were something she could be concerned about. Checking to see if anything felt familiar. One. Two. Three..? No, she didn't recognize the third. Lavinia?
Eyes open, dark like the space between the stars, bright like torches. Her face lights up, and she looks at Lukas. He was broad and natural and vivid brightness. Something felt right about him, something felt like color and brightness and wild trips of the imagination.
"Hey, Lucas, right?" she turns to the left to talk to him, splitting her attention between the painting. Keeps her open to anything that might come up that she misses. "It's pretty good timing. This exhibit is great, I haven't been to a gallery in forever."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen laughs softly at that greeting. "I sleep now too. It's bizarre."
He can see, out of the corner of his eye Lucas and Lavinia greeting each other. Notes that they seem to know each other. But, at least for now, he lets Grace have a moment.
"I like the one with the koi fish. But I think we might wake up one day to find they've swum off the canvas. Which I suppose would be alright, as long as they swim high enough in the air to avoid the cats."
Lucas Reed
"It's beautiful, and reminiscent, and... dynamic. I love that about it." He indicated the piece that Lavinia was gazing at. "I really like this one. I've never seen Hayakawa's work before, but now I think I want to look him up when I get home. I love just... being in this space."
As though to indicate this, he took a few steps back and sat down on one of the cushioned leather benches, leaning back on his palms to regard the full picture of the wall in front of him - taking it in like a snapshot (painting it into his memory.)
"You can call me Luke. Unless you like Lucas better. Either works." He glanced up at her, tilting his head back toward Kalen and Grace. "Should we introduce ourselves?"
Grace
Well, it's Kalen's appearance, Kalen's body wash, and Kalen's idiosyncratic way of explaining paintings. So either it's a thing with Kalen's memories who has somehow managed to best him and replace him like some kind of magical body-snatcher, or it's really him.
Grace blinks.
"Right. What happened? With the...." she waves her arms around in the air.
It's then that she looks around at the paintings, looking in vain for the one he's talking about.
"And which one has the koi fish? I just see a bunch of black circles."
Lavinia
"I think it would be a little sad if art were static, this though, this is fantastic. It… it moves, I guess flows is better because.. yeah," she moves with her hands, holds them out in front of her in a triangle and moves downward and then up, following the dark swatches of paint on the canvas. she remembered someone telling her about the use of negative space, but she was pulling for it, trying to find something that pricked her memory on that other than the words negative space.
She takes a seat with Luke, and it's quite a ways down for her to go. She stretches her legs out, crosses them at the ankles. She isn't towering that way, but she seems to make sense when she is towering. It seemed to emphasize how she was boundless, emphasized her own use of space.
"Names, and what you choose to call yourself, is important. If you want me to call you Luke, you're totally Luke," she informs him, lips upturned and smile playful. She looked back to the two people, taking them in for a second and only really being able to place one. That was… Grace? Mechanical keen and sharp and winged thing. Her expression lingered on Kalen for a moment, she cocked her head to the side and tried to place the feeling and, perhaps, she lingered long enough that she realized she was being rude.
Blinked and shook her head. Looked back at Luke.
"It's like you're standing inside of someone's head, looking out and seeing how they perceive the world."
Kalen Holliday
And if it were a thing with all of Kalen's memories, would it really be someone else? Could it really be?
"Mmmmmmmmm...not here. Here is for paintings." Kalen leads her to a painting that might be a portrait of koi fish or might be an abstract reminiscent of koi fish. Kalen sees koi fish, fins and lily pads and auspicious red markings.
There is a second when his attention is caught by another painting, a second which stretches into a few seconds of staring into bold and majestic brush strokes, mostly black with a hint of red. There might be a clumsy circle on that canvas to Grace, but Kalen sees a tiger.
Of course he does.
Kalen shifts his attention back to Grace, back to the koi fish and their vibrant colors. Away from the power and the majesty of the tiger.
"This one," he says to her.
[And, should you wish to look at these particular paintings: http://www.artdistrictonsantafe.com/uploads/events/celiv2.jpg and http://artworknetwork.com/files/detailed/detail-HYrXOS.jpg]
Grace
Grace looks, and she tries, she really does. There she is with the confused cocked head and everything.
"If that thing jumps from its canvas and starts swimming around the room, I'm going to call for backup."
It doesn't look like fish. In fact, it kind of looks like a penis, with some additional appendages.
"The colors are..." colors. They certainly have wavelengths of light bouncing off of them, yup. "Pretty? Though?"
Lucas Reed
"The paintings?" He asked because she might have meant him, based on her wording (and the fact that she was looking at him.) "They are like that. I think most good paintings are. Sort of what painting is I think." After a beat, he exhaled softly. "Fuck, I'd love to meditate in here."
He glanced up at Lavinia with a wry glimmer in his eyes. "I have another name. Maybe someday I'll tell you that one too."
And on that note, he hopped up off the bench and walked over to where Grace and Kalen stood examining a painting that looked a bit like koi fish.
"This is a great show, don't you think?" He held out his hand. "I'm Luke."
Lavinia
The paintings?
"Right," like it just dawned on her that they could possibly be talking about the paintings and not the man she happened to be talking to, Though she does turn her attention back to them, smile growing wide when he says he'd love to meditate here. "You might be able to, you know, come in the middle of the day, make nice with the curator and see if you can come in when it's closed. I'd feel like that would be a benefit of running a gallery, sometimes you get to be alone with all of this."
She sighs, and that really was for the art. The woman sat on the bench a little bit longer. Her attention swinging to Luke with that wry glimmer in his eyes. She quirked a brow at him and her smile upturned; she was not one to back down from a challenge. A task. Something new. Layers upon layers, she thought. The woman stayed seated for awhile, taking a moment to just soak in the painting.
She stayed there for a second longer, put her hands on the bench and hoisted herself up. Jacket gets thrown over her shoulder again and attentions go where they have to go- with people. Perhaps more than art, she craved attention. Craved contact because existence had been very lonely since she got back to Denver. May as well go make friends, right?
Of course right, onward! To people!
Kalen Holliday
Had Grace told him what she saw in that painting, Kalen would have bought it for Kharisma. At some point. After he stopped laughing.
"They are colors, are they?" He smiles. "We can get a different painting. There are many paintings in the world and we do not, alas, have infinite space."
Perhaps he might have said something else, might have started drifting toward another painting, but Luke arrives. Kalen reaches out and shakes Luke's hand, smiling again.
"Kalen," he says. "Welcome to Denver...?"
Grace
Grace would argue about that space point, but it might end up with Kalen wanting to buy infinite paintings, so she just smiles, and leans in. "It looks like weird squiddy genitalia," she whispers, because there are other people around now. "I don't see where you got koi."
That having been said, there are other people around now, and she must welcome at least one of them. She smiles at Lucas, first, because he spoke some introductory thing. "It is. More for the people, I think."
Lavinia she has seen before, in less formal attire. Grace squints her eyes at that, but whatever. Apparently white suits are appropriate attire for people to gawp at thousands of dollars worth of pictures of black circles and fishlike penii. She'll never ever understand this.
Lucas Reed
"Thanks." Luke smiled as he shook Kalen's hand. The skin on Luke's palm was a little rough - worn and nicked in places from labor or training. He didn't offer any correction to Kalen's assumption, which was as good as confirming it. "I'm liking it so far. Are there a lot of us around?"
(Us. The Awakened. People who resonate.)
Grace acknowledged his presence with a response, but neglected to offer her name. At this, Luke canted his head with a little smile (as though to convey that this fact had not gone unnoticed) but didn't press her for it.
"I've met Lavinia and Josephine, and now you."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen thinks back to a time when the only other Awakened he knew were Kharisma and Jack. To living in a Hermetic chantry surrounded by other Magi. To Santiago with Ramon and only occasionally any others at all.
"I think that depends on how you define a lot," he says. "Sometimes more than others. People drift in and out. But if you want to feel that out for yourself sometime, we can set up some introductions.
"Maybe a smidge more wine and a smidge less art. Maybe not." A trace of something playful threads through his tone. "But you never know. I might buy an art gallery something. I am in a mood."
Grace
"Kalen? In a mood? You don't say," Grace says, and rolls her eyes. Yes, dears, he's pretty much always in a mood. Some kind of mood.
"Mmm. And, you have met Grace," she says, adding to Lucas's list. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Grace is totally playful, making fun of the very idea of people saying such silly things as 'I am delighted to make your acquaintance.'
Lucas Reed
Lucas laughed at that. "What it must be like to be able to buy art galleries on a whim." He didn't actually know if Kalen was being serious or not, but even the suggestion seemed alien to him. "I think art transcends ownership. Kind of a shame we've capitalized it." He glanced at the painting before replying to Kalen's offer. "I think I'd like that, though. Introductions. Not so much the wine."
(He didn't drink, you see.)
And here now was Grace's introduction - so very proper (so very making fun of proper.) Luke caught the inflection, but didn't seem especially offended by it. Instead he just grinned and nodded toward her. "I'll remember that."
(And he would. He would remember their names forever. Possibly even into the next lifetime.)
Kalen Holliday
"Paintings on a whim, maybe. I might have to think about the art gallery. Investors. Paperwork." He rolls his eyes. "So much effort." And then Kalen grins. "And there are so many books to buy first.
"Less wine, huh? Okay. We can still do that I think. I should get your number or something. So that we can have further discussions about things that may or may not transcend ownership." He doesn't mean art, at least it isn't art that he';s thinking of. No, Kalen is thinking of Nodes and libraries and maybe at some point Ginger and the House.
But, now that Luke brings it up, maybe art too.
If he donates that one painting to a museum, he's pretty sure he and Grace will have something to laugh about forever. Would she visit it, after he died? Would he stand before it in another life and wonder why he was laughing?
Focus.
"Sometimes it can be like herding cats, but I'm sure we can get at least a few of us together."
Grace
"I feel like pretty much everything transcends ownership," Grace says. "Humans just like coming and fucking things up with their resource distribution systems."
"We're like cats because most of us are like 'phh, rules'. I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? Isn't that part of how we got to be who we are in the first place?"
And thus, Grace goes on the blabby side of things.
"But yes, we must introduce you to more people. If you want. If you don't want, that is okay too."
Lavinia
For all that she was tall and striking and generally hard to miss, Lavinia had done a very good job of just standing, smiling ever-so-slightly, and enjoying the conversation. She watched people talk, watched mouthes specifically in such a fashion that one might wonder if she speaks English as a first language. (She does, she is just a little deaf on one side, but people don't know that to look at her.)
Idly, she ended up humming the first few bars of Colors of the Wind from Pocahontas at the mention of things transcending ownership.
Lucas Reed
"Whatever works." See, he was easy like that. One might almost be forgiven for mistaking him for a Cultist (the resonance, the septum piercing, the hints of socialist leanings - though there was that wine thing.) "Seems like you guys are a diverse group. That'll be a nice change of pace." He didn't elaborate though, mostly because they were in public, and however relaxed his demeanor he still understood the dangers of indiscretion. To Grace he said, "I agree with you, actually. Art just has a way of transcending it in spite of us. I mean, if you see a painting, it becomes yours for as long as you remember it."
Luke pulled a cell phone out of his pocket - an android that looked a few years old and more than a little scuffed (it was kind of a miracle he hadn't broken it yet.) He didn't actually need to write Kalen's number down, but having a contact list made life easier. "Here, let's switch." He opened up his contacts and handed the phone to Kalen.
Kalen Holliday
Let's switch. Kalen pulls his phone out of pocket and hands it over. Maybe he could be more cautious, but what, really, might happen. Ginger is hardly noticeable. All of his contacts are in by the names he has given them. Luke probably won't remain Luke for long.
He enters his name as Kalen Holliday, though he expects he doesn't have a reputation outside the Order enough for that to matter. His phone number. An e-mail address. The physical address for his library. And then, because non-sleep-deprived and newly-emerged-from-a-Seeking Kalen is nothing if not playful, he snaps a picture of the koi (or penii, that is, after all, for each of them to interpret on their own) and sets it as his contact picture. And he has that luxury. Grace is right there. Grace will alert him to signs of ambush while he is playing.
"Yeah. We even mostly get along. Me less, actually, I think. On account of my being all moody and temperamental."
"Oh. Hey. You can play the phone switching game too if you want," he says to Lavinia.
Grace
"Hah, yeah. I'll remember that one," she says, pointing toward the 'koi'. "Some of the circle ones are nice, but about all I'm going to remember of them tomorrow is weird black circle shapes. I guess that means I don't get to keep them."
Unless...
Grace takes out her own phone and snaps a picture of a random painting. They might have a rule about that here. Grace doesn't care.
"Caught you, you... funky circle."
Lavinia
"Do we all pass to the right? how's this going to work?" she says as she fishes a boring, boring phone out of her tiny, tiny purse. It is a go phone, the kind of thing that you put minutes in every so often or ditch in a trash can when it becomes to cumbersome. Something with a removable memory card. A smart phone that is several generations old and was… surprisingly scratch free.
"Lavinia," she clarifies, doesn't give a last name because what were the odds that someone would have more than one Lavinia in their phone?
She looks at Grace and grins, "you know, last time I saw you, you and… uh… Jo? Was it Jo? Anyway, did you guys get home okay?"
Lucas Reed
When Kalen took his phone back, he'd find that Luke had entered both a phone number and an e-mail address (though no physical address.) His full name was apparently Lucas Reed. The e-mail address he entered said: chotehathi@gmail.com.
Kalen said that he was moody and temperamental, to which Luke just smiled quietly. "I can handle moody." He passed his phone over to Lavinia. "It's like a circle jerk, but way more boring."
After a pause, he added, "Sorry. That was super inappropriate."
Lavinia
[oh my god, did I hear that correctly?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 1, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kalen Holliday
"Oh, Kit. They will live forever in your heart." He glances over the information Luke put into his phone, and then offers his phone to Lavinia.
"Famous last words," Kalen mutters, but with no real indication of anything but amusement. And then there is a startled, muffled laugh.
"Damn. Well, that was not on the list of things I expected to hear at this particular exhibit. I mean...the ne next Tuesday down the way with the artistic nudes maybe. Not so much here. Definitely welcome to Denver."
Grace
"Why wouldn't we get home okay?" Aside from, you know, monsters. But even then, getting home okay is still fairly good chances.
Notice, she does not hand her phone over. Instead, she slips hers back in her pocket. It's just a weird thing to imagine, okay? Like handing somebody your foot to pass around. Her phone is something she typically uses to do Magic with. It hums with her. One might expect it to grow its own wings someday and fly around.
And, it has secrets upon it. The phone numbers of a few vampires, her friends (without nicknames), her encryption, her specialty programs. She's not in any hurry to completely open up to the newcomer.
Which is not to say that he doesn't get all the smiles she can muster.
"Oh, my heart will be so thrilled to learn this, Kalen. Truly."
Lavinia
It takes a moment where there is curiosity then surprise, then finally she was sure of what she heard.
And Lavinia laughs.
She takes the phone from Luke. Eyes light up and nearly close, laughing comes unabashed and sonorous. There are sounds that one thinks o, but they don't have human equivalents. There are all sorts of images that people go to when angels laugh, and it usually involves something sickeningly sweet but this isn't sickeningly sweet. This is the voice of a herald, whose mirth is not quelched.
"So we just don't make eye contact while we're doing this and it's all good?" she's getting a little tan, but her cheeks are pink and she's putting her name in the phone. Lavinia Cervantes. A phone number from Texas, no email address. But she does take a picture of herself while she's holding back laughter, something about photos makes her less daunting but makes her hair seem a little more like a halo. Though, she doesn't seem to have her hands free, because she took Kalen's phone too soon and she looked a little awkward for a minute, confirmed what was right with Luke's before starting in on Kalen's.
Same thing- Lavinia Cervantes. Texas phone number. No email. Standard peace sign selfie. (Do celestial beings take selfies? Yes, yes they do.) She got back to laughing, just small and under her breath but it lingers in her eyes.
Lucas Reed
"You have a nice laugh." Luke smiled at Lavinia, his expression openly sentimental. Not exactly a flirtation (that would involve some kind of intent.) More like the way he looked at those paintings. Like he wished he could jump inside the sound of her voice and live there. (He would likely recall that laugh when he thought of her later: hear it again in his mind as clearly as though she was standing beside him.)
If her phone eventually made its way into his hand, Luke would type the same information that he'd given to Kalen. Otherwise she'd get a text from him later. Grace didn't offer her phone, so Luke didn't ask for it. Everyone had different boundaries. Different things they considered personal and private.
"Not making eye contact sounds like a pretty depressing way to have a circle jerk. Where's the intimacy?" The tone of his voice there was relaxed and honest, lacking in anything resembling wry flirtation.
To Kalen, he said, "I aim to be surprising."
And then? He ducked his head in a little bow of goodbye. "I have to get going, but I'm glad I ran into you all. I hope we can meet up soon."
After that, he made his way back out to the street.
Lucas Reed
[I must be off guys! Thank you for the scene! Have a good night!]
Grace
[I must also be off. Work work :(]
Kalen Holliday
[Me too, really. We just want to call it at phone numbers and goodbye?
Lavinia
(sounds like a plan to me!)
Grace
[Whee! Sleep time!]
One of the gallery spaces in the Art Network (a two-story Arts Center located on Santa Fe) was currently exhibiting a show by the artist Tadashi Hayakawa titled Echoes of Heritage. It was by chance that Lucas happened to be walking by. He might not have turned his head in time to see the poster, but he did. One of the artist's paintings was depicted on the print, and it caught his attention. Something about the colors and the pattern of the shapes. It stirred like an old memory - something he carried in a part of his soul that remembered another time (another place.) So he stopped there on the sidewalk, looking at the poster for a long, stilled moment. Then he blinked and glanced up at the building.
Why not?
He went inside, grabbing a brochure as he made his way up the stairs to the exhibit.
Kalen Holliday
[How distracted by Resonance are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 4, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Lucas Reed
[Edit: "He went inside, grabbing a brochure as he made his way through the door." (Because apparently I'm an idiot and this gallery is on the first floor.)]
Lucas Reed
[Also, if anyone wants to check this thing out: http://www.artworknetwork.com/currentexhibit.php]
Kalen Holliday
Kalen is drifting through the exhibit - half aware of the colors taking shape in the works of art before him and half still caught on butterfly wings.
The world is colors and light and he feels it more now in general and then more in specific as Lucas comes into the gallery. There have been days that he would have come straight up to Lucas-to greet or to challenge or to welcome. Tonight he keeps looking at the paintings. One of them reminds him of a tiger. And therefore of Ian.
At the moment though, he is standing before a portrait of some koi fish and wondering if they, creatures of ink and color and fate and dreams, would like to come sailing off of the canvas to swim through the air in the gallery.
What would all of these people do? Would they think it was as magnificent? He remembers that he was afraid when confronted with a larger world, but that larger world did arrive in the form of something trying to eat him. And magic, wild and instinctive and pure and glorious, saving him from being eaten.
Serafíne
(I may/may not join, so please no one wait for me! Just if the whim hits.)
Lucas Reed
[Awareness]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 4 )
Grace
[Awareness too]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 3 )
Lucas Reed
Lucas was somehow both easy and difficult to miss. Easy, because he was rather on the small side physically, and difficult because something about him felt so vivid and clear - all stark details and vibrant color. He also felt older than he looked. Like remembrance. Like these paintings, actually. Old and new all at once.
Kalen noticed him, but didn't look. Lucas noticed Kalen as well. He glanced toward him with wide, dark eyes, alert and interested (curious as much of him as he was of everything else in this new environment.) He didn't approach Kalen immediately though. Instead he wandered past a wall decorated in elegant black and white canvases. His eyes followed the brush strokes, curving around as he tilted his head - briefly enraptured.
Grace
Kit. Come help me pick out some paintings. The library needs more color.
If Grace were honest with herself, she'd ponder about Kalen's sanity, with that text. Such a request is like asking Pan Echeverría to come help pick out new servers. But let's be double-double honest -- she's not doing this to pick out something pretty for the library. She's mostly doing it to keep Kalen from buying the entire lot of paintings and leaving them with no funds with which to purchase new servers.
She's got her priorities straight, does Grace.
She only hopes she makes it there in time to keep him from spree-ing.
But, when she arrives, she doesn't sense the presence of her sometimes overly enthusiastic friend. She feels... something though. Someone(s)? The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she keeps on going. It's just that little bit of confusion, as she steps into the place, looks around.
She doesn't look like the kind of person who belongs in an art gallery. A nerdy tee shirt paired with jeans of the non-designer variety make up the majority of her wardrobe, and today is no different. Still, people might find it hard to consider her anything but the background noise.
Lavinia
[I wanna roll awareness!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Lavinia
She was wearing a suit. An honest-to-God, tailor-made perfect lines and seams suit. She wasn't sure what to wear to an art exhibit, especially one that she was showing up at alone. She found, however, that she rarely had the opportunity to wear her suit, so god dammit she was going to wear it. With heels, because fuck people who can't deal with a six and a half foot tall vision of angelic radiance. That was the thing about going alone places- she didn't have anyone to stand with. No one to impress upon her certain standards and responsibilities.
Lavinia could do what she damn well wanted.
So there she was, bright blue heels clicking and legs looking especially long. The pants sat high on her waist, the shirt tucked in and a nice, crisp white. The top button was unbuttoned; she wore a black tie anyway, jacket thrown over her shoulder with some gold pin on the lapel. She wore a men's watch, something that wasn't as nice as the suit but something she liked anyway. It wasn't so much a gift as it was that she stole it from a previous lover/devotee/student of celestial things. He didn't care that she kept the watch, she wore it sometimes to remember him, to wax nostalgic on better times.
Art had a tendency to do that with Lavinis, provoke introspection. She held a tiny blue bag with a tiny gold strap. Make your shoes match your bag, someone drilled it into her head and arguably this is the nicest the blonde-haired woman had looked in awhile. She was hovering by some picture that spoke more of movement than anything. The loop, something that made her think of ink being poured into water. She stood in front of a bench, one that she considered making use of.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen, because it was Oliver who greeted him as he came out of the dark, remembers him in some ways more clearly than he does Lavinia. He remembers the sense of Lavinia more than the person. He is not sure what he will call her.
He already calls Alyssa Angel.
They already have a Seraphine.
Kalen leaves Lavinia be for now, slipping through the gallery instead to meet Grace. He is unconcerned by the unexpected gathering. These are so very Denver. If the others stay, they will become accustomed. If they leave, as so many seem to....
Well. He can only hope they found what they were searching for before they moved on.
"Hey, Kit."
Grace
Bwa? Grace looks over Kalen like he's an alien. She even reaches out with a confused hand and sniffs the air around him.
"Kalen?"
The fuck?
"You're different. Way different."
She gets the sensation of a swirl of shattered colors, of stars, of something otherworldly. Like what's standing in front of her might just be alien indeed. It's enough to question all other evidence that Kalen is... Kalen. It's like coming across a good friend who's suddenly gained a foot in height.
Lucas Reed
"Lavinia." Luke's smile was broad and natural when he felt her come in; sensed her presence like a brilliant beacon of angelic light. She and Kalen had that in common (they both felt as though they'd descended from the heavens,) but Lavinia was at least a slightly familiar presence - and impossible to miss in every conceivable way. Luke managed to pull his attention away from the paintings long enough to approach her, tilting his head so that he could meet her eyes with his own. She was a full foot taller than he was, and standing beside each other, the differences in their appearance was stark.
"Nice to see you again." He glanced back at Kalen and Grace. "I guess I picked a good time to wander through the neighborhood."
(Yes, funny how that worked.)
He'd shaved today, so there was no evidence of the facial hair he'd been sporting on their last encounter, but the septum ring was still there. He'd also shaved his head recently, leaving only a fine layer of dark fuzz on his scalp. Unlike Lavinia, he hadn't bothered to dress up (that would have required advance knowledge of his plans.) Instead he wore a simple white t-shirt over a pair of red skinny jeans and a set of doc martens.
Lavinia
There's a way that she assesses new feelings and resonance. She marks it, closes her eyes for a second. She's feeling things out, trying to assess if the feelings were something she could be concerned about. Checking to see if anything felt familiar. One. Two. Three..? No, she didn't recognize the third. Lavinia?
Eyes open, dark like the space between the stars, bright like torches. Her face lights up, and she looks at Lukas. He was broad and natural and vivid brightness. Something felt right about him, something felt like color and brightness and wild trips of the imagination.
"Hey, Lucas, right?" she turns to the left to talk to him, splitting her attention between the painting. Keeps her open to anything that might come up that she misses. "It's pretty good timing. This exhibit is great, I haven't been to a gallery in forever."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen laughs softly at that greeting. "I sleep now too. It's bizarre."
He can see, out of the corner of his eye Lucas and Lavinia greeting each other. Notes that they seem to know each other. But, at least for now, he lets Grace have a moment.
"I like the one with the koi fish. But I think we might wake up one day to find they've swum off the canvas. Which I suppose would be alright, as long as they swim high enough in the air to avoid the cats."
Lucas Reed
"It's beautiful, and reminiscent, and... dynamic. I love that about it." He indicated the piece that Lavinia was gazing at. "I really like this one. I've never seen Hayakawa's work before, but now I think I want to look him up when I get home. I love just... being in this space."
As though to indicate this, he took a few steps back and sat down on one of the cushioned leather benches, leaning back on his palms to regard the full picture of the wall in front of him - taking it in like a snapshot (painting it into his memory.)
"You can call me Luke. Unless you like Lucas better. Either works." He glanced up at her, tilting his head back toward Kalen and Grace. "Should we introduce ourselves?"
Grace
Well, it's Kalen's appearance, Kalen's body wash, and Kalen's idiosyncratic way of explaining paintings. So either it's a thing with Kalen's memories who has somehow managed to best him and replace him like some kind of magical body-snatcher, or it's really him.
Grace blinks.
"Right. What happened? With the...." she waves her arms around in the air.
It's then that she looks around at the paintings, looking in vain for the one he's talking about.
"And which one has the koi fish? I just see a bunch of black circles."
Lavinia
"I think it would be a little sad if art were static, this though, this is fantastic. It… it moves, I guess flows is better because.. yeah," she moves with her hands, holds them out in front of her in a triangle and moves downward and then up, following the dark swatches of paint on the canvas. she remembered someone telling her about the use of negative space, but she was pulling for it, trying to find something that pricked her memory on that other than the words negative space.
She takes a seat with Luke, and it's quite a ways down for her to go. She stretches her legs out, crosses them at the ankles. She isn't towering that way, but she seems to make sense when she is towering. It seemed to emphasize how she was boundless, emphasized her own use of space.
"Names, and what you choose to call yourself, is important. If you want me to call you Luke, you're totally Luke," she informs him, lips upturned and smile playful. She looked back to the two people, taking them in for a second and only really being able to place one. That was… Grace? Mechanical keen and sharp and winged thing. Her expression lingered on Kalen for a moment, she cocked her head to the side and tried to place the feeling and, perhaps, she lingered long enough that she realized she was being rude.
Blinked and shook her head. Looked back at Luke.
"It's like you're standing inside of someone's head, looking out and seeing how they perceive the world."
Kalen Holliday
And if it were a thing with all of Kalen's memories, would it really be someone else? Could it really be?
"Mmmmmmmmm...not here. Here is for paintings." Kalen leads her to a painting that might be a portrait of koi fish or might be an abstract reminiscent of koi fish. Kalen sees koi fish, fins and lily pads and auspicious red markings.
There is a second when his attention is caught by another painting, a second which stretches into a few seconds of staring into bold and majestic brush strokes, mostly black with a hint of red. There might be a clumsy circle on that canvas to Grace, but Kalen sees a tiger.
Of course he does.
Kalen shifts his attention back to Grace, back to the koi fish and their vibrant colors. Away from the power and the majesty of the tiger.
"This one," he says to her.
[And, should you wish to look at these particular paintings: http://www.artdistrictonsantafe.com/uploads/events/celiv2.jpg and http://artworknetwork.com/files/detailed/detail-HYrXOS.jpg]
Grace
Grace looks, and she tries, she really does. There she is with the confused cocked head and everything.
"If that thing jumps from its canvas and starts swimming around the room, I'm going to call for backup."
It doesn't look like fish. In fact, it kind of looks like a penis, with some additional appendages.
"The colors are..." colors. They certainly have wavelengths of light bouncing off of them, yup. "Pretty? Though?"
Lucas Reed
"The paintings?" He asked because she might have meant him, based on her wording (and the fact that she was looking at him.) "They are like that. I think most good paintings are. Sort of what painting is I think." After a beat, he exhaled softly. "Fuck, I'd love to meditate in here."
He glanced up at Lavinia with a wry glimmer in his eyes. "I have another name. Maybe someday I'll tell you that one too."
And on that note, he hopped up off the bench and walked over to where Grace and Kalen stood examining a painting that looked a bit like koi fish.
"This is a great show, don't you think?" He held out his hand. "I'm Luke."
Lavinia
The paintings?
"Right," like it just dawned on her that they could possibly be talking about the paintings and not the man she happened to be talking to, Though she does turn her attention back to them, smile growing wide when he says he'd love to meditate here. "You might be able to, you know, come in the middle of the day, make nice with the curator and see if you can come in when it's closed. I'd feel like that would be a benefit of running a gallery, sometimes you get to be alone with all of this."
She sighs, and that really was for the art. The woman sat on the bench a little bit longer. Her attention swinging to Luke with that wry glimmer in his eyes. She quirked a brow at him and her smile upturned; she was not one to back down from a challenge. A task. Something new. Layers upon layers, she thought. The woman stayed seated for awhile, taking a moment to just soak in the painting.
She stayed there for a second longer, put her hands on the bench and hoisted herself up. Jacket gets thrown over her shoulder again and attentions go where they have to go- with people. Perhaps more than art, she craved attention. Craved contact because existence had been very lonely since she got back to Denver. May as well go make friends, right?
Of course right, onward! To people!
Kalen Holliday
Had Grace told him what she saw in that painting, Kalen would have bought it for Kharisma. At some point. After he stopped laughing.
"They are colors, are they?" He smiles. "We can get a different painting. There are many paintings in the world and we do not, alas, have infinite space."
Perhaps he might have said something else, might have started drifting toward another painting, but Luke arrives. Kalen reaches out and shakes Luke's hand, smiling again.
"Kalen," he says. "Welcome to Denver...?"
Grace
Grace would argue about that space point, but it might end up with Kalen wanting to buy infinite paintings, so she just smiles, and leans in. "It looks like weird squiddy genitalia," she whispers, because there are other people around now. "I don't see where you got koi."
That having been said, there are other people around now, and she must welcome at least one of them. She smiles at Lucas, first, because he spoke some introductory thing. "It is. More for the people, I think."
Lavinia she has seen before, in less formal attire. Grace squints her eyes at that, but whatever. Apparently white suits are appropriate attire for people to gawp at thousands of dollars worth of pictures of black circles and fishlike penii. She'll never ever understand this.
Lucas Reed
"Thanks." Luke smiled as he shook Kalen's hand. The skin on Luke's palm was a little rough - worn and nicked in places from labor or training. He didn't offer any correction to Kalen's assumption, which was as good as confirming it. "I'm liking it so far. Are there a lot of us around?"
(Us. The Awakened. People who resonate.)
Grace acknowledged his presence with a response, but neglected to offer her name. At this, Luke canted his head with a little smile (as though to convey that this fact had not gone unnoticed) but didn't press her for it.
"I've met Lavinia and Josephine, and now you."
Kalen Holliday
Kalen thinks back to a time when the only other Awakened he knew were Kharisma and Jack. To living in a Hermetic chantry surrounded by other Magi. To Santiago with Ramon and only occasionally any others at all.
"I think that depends on how you define a lot," he says. "Sometimes more than others. People drift in and out. But if you want to feel that out for yourself sometime, we can set up some introductions.
"Maybe a smidge more wine and a smidge less art. Maybe not." A trace of something playful threads through his tone. "But you never know. I might buy an art gallery something. I am in a mood."
Grace
"Kalen? In a mood? You don't say," Grace says, and rolls her eyes. Yes, dears, he's pretty much always in a mood. Some kind of mood.
"Mmm. And, you have met Grace," she says, adding to Lucas's list. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Grace is totally playful, making fun of the very idea of people saying such silly things as 'I am delighted to make your acquaintance.'
Lucas Reed
Lucas laughed at that. "What it must be like to be able to buy art galleries on a whim." He didn't actually know if Kalen was being serious or not, but even the suggestion seemed alien to him. "I think art transcends ownership. Kind of a shame we've capitalized it." He glanced at the painting before replying to Kalen's offer. "I think I'd like that, though. Introductions. Not so much the wine."
(He didn't drink, you see.)
And here now was Grace's introduction - so very proper (so very making fun of proper.) Luke caught the inflection, but didn't seem especially offended by it. Instead he just grinned and nodded toward her. "I'll remember that."
(And he would. He would remember their names forever. Possibly even into the next lifetime.)
Kalen Holliday
"Paintings on a whim, maybe. I might have to think about the art gallery. Investors. Paperwork." He rolls his eyes. "So much effort." And then Kalen grins. "And there are so many books to buy first.
"Less wine, huh? Okay. We can still do that I think. I should get your number or something. So that we can have further discussions about things that may or may not transcend ownership." He doesn't mean art, at least it isn't art that he';s thinking of. No, Kalen is thinking of Nodes and libraries and maybe at some point Ginger and the House.
But, now that Luke brings it up, maybe art too.
If he donates that one painting to a museum, he's pretty sure he and Grace will have something to laugh about forever. Would she visit it, after he died? Would he stand before it in another life and wonder why he was laughing?
Focus.
"Sometimes it can be like herding cats, but I'm sure we can get at least a few of us together."
Grace
"I feel like pretty much everything transcends ownership," Grace says. "Humans just like coming and fucking things up with their resource distribution systems."
"We're like cats because most of us are like 'phh, rules'. I mean, it makes sense, doesn't it? Isn't that part of how we got to be who we are in the first place?"
And thus, Grace goes on the blabby side of things.
"But yes, we must introduce you to more people. If you want. If you don't want, that is okay too."
Lavinia
For all that she was tall and striking and generally hard to miss, Lavinia had done a very good job of just standing, smiling ever-so-slightly, and enjoying the conversation. She watched people talk, watched mouthes specifically in such a fashion that one might wonder if she speaks English as a first language. (She does, she is just a little deaf on one side, but people don't know that to look at her.)
Idly, she ended up humming the first few bars of Colors of the Wind from Pocahontas at the mention of things transcending ownership.
Lucas Reed
"Whatever works." See, he was easy like that. One might almost be forgiven for mistaking him for a Cultist (the resonance, the septum piercing, the hints of socialist leanings - though there was that wine thing.) "Seems like you guys are a diverse group. That'll be a nice change of pace." He didn't elaborate though, mostly because they were in public, and however relaxed his demeanor he still understood the dangers of indiscretion. To Grace he said, "I agree with you, actually. Art just has a way of transcending it in spite of us. I mean, if you see a painting, it becomes yours for as long as you remember it."
Luke pulled a cell phone out of his pocket - an android that looked a few years old and more than a little scuffed (it was kind of a miracle he hadn't broken it yet.) He didn't actually need to write Kalen's number down, but having a contact list made life easier. "Here, let's switch." He opened up his contacts and handed the phone to Kalen.
Kalen Holliday
Let's switch. Kalen pulls his phone out of pocket and hands it over. Maybe he could be more cautious, but what, really, might happen. Ginger is hardly noticeable. All of his contacts are in by the names he has given them. Luke probably won't remain Luke for long.
He enters his name as Kalen Holliday, though he expects he doesn't have a reputation outside the Order enough for that to matter. His phone number. An e-mail address. The physical address for his library. And then, because non-sleep-deprived and newly-emerged-from-a-Seeking Kalen is nothing if not playful, he snaps a picture of the koi (or penii, that is, after all, for each of them to interpret on their own) and sets it as his contact picture. And he has that luxury. Grace is right there. Grace will alert him to signs of ambush while he is playing.
"Yeah. We even mostly get along. Me less, actually, I think. On account of my being all moody and temperamental."
"Oh. Hey. You can play the phone switching game too if you want," he says to Lavinia.
Grace
"Hah, yeah. I'll remember that one," she says, pointing toward the 'koi'. "Some of the circle ones are nice, but about all I'm going to remember of them tomorrow is weird black circle shapes. I guess that means I don't get to keep them."
Unless...
Grace takes out her own phone and snaps a picture of a random painting. They might have a rule about that here. Grace doesn't care.
"Caught you, you... funky circle."
Lavinia
"Do we all pass to the right? how's this going to work?" she says as she fishes a boring, boring phone out of her tiny, tiny purse. It is a go phone, the kind of thing that you put minutes in every so often or ditch in a trash can when it becomes to cumbersome. Something with a removable memory card. A smart phone that is several generations old and was… surprisingly scratch free.
"Lavinia," she clarifies, doesn't give a last name because what were the odds that someone would have more than one Lavinia in their phone?
She looks at Grace and grins, "you know, last time I saw you, you and… uh… Jo? Was it Jo? Anyway, did you guys get home okay?"
Lucas Reed
When Kalen took his phone back, he'd find that Luke had entered both a phone number and an e-mail address (though no physical address.) His full name was apparently Lucas Reed. The e-mail address he entered said: chotehathi@gmail.com.
Kalen said that he was moody and temperamental, to which Luke just smiled quietly. "I can handle moody." He passed his phone over to Lavinia. "It's like a circle jerk, but way more boring."
After a pause, he added, "Sorry. That was super inappropriate."
Lavinia
[oh my god, did I hear that correctly?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 1, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kalen Holliday
"Oh, Kit. They will live forever in your heart." He glances over the information Luke put into his phone, and then offers his phone to Lavinia.
"Famous last words," Kalen mutters, but with no real indication of anything but amusement. And then there is a startled, muffled laugh.
"Damn. Well, that was not on the list of things I expected to hear at this particular exhibit. I mean...the ne next Tuesday down the way with the artistic nudes maybe. Not so much here. Definitely welcome to Denver."
Grace
"Why wouldn't we get home okay?" Aside from, you know, monsters. But even then, getting home okay is still fairly good chances.
Notice, she does not hand her phone over. Instead, she slips hers back in her pocket. It's just a weird thing to imagine, okay? Like handing somebody your foot to pass around. Her phone is something she typically uses to do Magic with. It hums with her. One might expect it to grow its own wings someday and fly around.
And, it has secrets upon it. The phone numbers of a few vampires, her friends (without nicknames), her encryption, her specialty programs. She's not in any hurry to completely open up to the newcomer.
Which is not to say that he doesn't get all the smiles she can muster.
"Oh, my heart will be so thrilled to learn this, Kalen. Truly."
Lavinia
It takes a moment where there is curiosity then surprise, then finally she was sure of what she heard.
And Lavinia laughs.
She takes the phone from Luke. Eyes light up and nearly close, laughing comes unabashed and sonorous. There are sounds that one thinks o, but they don't have human equivalents. There are all sorts of images that people go to when angels laugh, and it usually involves something sickeningly sweet but this isn't sickeningly sweet. This is the voice of a herald, whose mirth is not quelched.
"So we just don't make eye contact while we're doing this and it's all good?" she's getting a little tan, but her cheeks are pink and she's putting her name in the phone. Lavinia Cervantes. A phone number from Texas, no email address. But she does take a picture of herself while she's holding back laughter, something about photos makes her less daunting but makes her hair seem a little more like a halo. Though, she doesn't seem to have her hands free, because she took Kalen's phone too soon and she looked a little awkward for a minute, confirmed what was right with Luke's before starting in on Kalen's.
Same thing- Lavinia Cervantes. Texas phone number. No email. Standard peace sign selfie. (Do celestial beings take selfies? Yes, yes they do.) She got back to laughing, just small and under her breath but it lingers in her eyes.
Lucas Reed
"You have a nice laugh." Luke smiled at Lavinia, his expression openly sentimental. Not exactly a flirtation (that would involve some kind of intent.) More like the way he looked at those paintings. Like he wished he could jump inside the sound of her voice and live there. (He would likely recall that laugh when he thought of her later: hear it again in his mind as clearly as though she was standing beside him.)
If her phone eventually made its way into his hand, Luke would type the same information that he'd given to Kalen. Otherwise she'd get a text from him later. Grace didn't offer her phone, so Luke didn't ask for it. Everyone had different boundaries. Different things they considered personal and private.
"Not making eye contact sounds like a pretty depressing way to have a circle jerk. Where's the intimacy?" The tone of his voice there was relaxed and honest, lacking in anything resembling wry flirtation.
To Kalen, he said, "I aim to be surprising."
And then? He ducked his head in a little bow of goodbye. "I have to get going, but I'm glad I ran into you all. I hope we can meet up soon."
After that, he made his way back out to the street.
Lucas Reed
[I must be off guys! Thank you for the scene! Have a good night!]
Grace
[I must also be off. Work work :(]
Kalen Holliday
[Me too, really. We just want to call it at phone numbers and goodbye?
Lavinia
(sounds like a plan to me!)
Grace
[Whee! Sleep time!]
Monday, May 18, 2015
Talking to Elephants
Alexander
[Arete, sensing time. Diff 4, -1 for taking time. Aiming for 2 succs to last the scene.]
Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (4) ( success x 1 )
Kalen Holliday
[How awake are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7) ( success x 1 )
Alexander
[Extending]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (7) ( success x 1 )
Kalen Holliday
[And how distracted by Resonance are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 6, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Alexander
As winter passes into spring, so day turns into night. The sun has long set below the horizon and the stars above the city are visible in the clear sky. Points of brightness shine against the black, like metaphors for… well, there have been countless times in history that a few points of light stand against the darkness. The sky isn’t as studded as it would be further away from the city, light pollution drowns out the weaker points in the sky. But there’s still plenty to see.
The park is pretty quiet this late. An occasional person walks through on their way home, or out clubbing, or just for the pleasure of walking on a clear night. Somewhere near the shore of the lake, a thick blanket has been laid out and is currently occupied by Alexander. He’s on his back, staring up at the sky. One arm lies across his chest, the other is bent and used to prop up his head. His senses have been extended, reaching out to feel time as it flows by. The constant tick of minutes and seconds make their presence known as he just lies there feeling it flow.
A large rucksack also sits on the blanket, most of its contents already removed. A flask of soup lies nearby, the cup long unscrewed, filled and finished. A half-filled (half-empty?) bottle of water sits next to it, discarded.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen drifts through the park, sipping gingerly at a cup of coffee that is too hot to be a comfortable temperature for drinking. He had a fascinating night last night, but it was a fascinating night that led to dreaming. Still. It was a night he would keep. Dreams or no dreams.
He comes here, to the lake, where he thinks of meeting the Message. He finds Alexander, who he also met here, though he associates the House with Alexander more than this place. Still, he has found Alexander here more than the Message, and has stopped being surprised by things so mundane as chance meetings.
There is no hesitation as he approaches Alexander, he just comes up to him and lays wordlessly on the blanket beside him, on his side and a bit to one edge of the blanket. The color in his eyes is drowned out by shadows, both the kind that came with dusk and the ones that darken the skin beneath his eyes. The dusk-shadows might hide those a bit, but he's still ghost-pale, and in what little light there is that is only more apparent.
He watches Alexander, silent and intent. Patient. It's a greeting perhaps more suited a cat than a person.
Alexander
[Awareness?}
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6) ( success x 1 )
Alexander
A storm approaches Alexander and his small spread of stuff. It’s a familiar storm, though. One that he knows and trusts enough to stay where he is as it nears, attention more focussed on the sky and the passing of time than on Kalen lying next to him.
“Hey. There’s soup, if you want some. It should still be warm.” Alexander’s tone is thoughtful, maybe a little distracted, when he greets Kalen without initially turning to look. “Chicken.” He does look, though, after some moments pass and sees him in the glow of the moon and the radiant glow of the city lights.
“You ok?”
Kalen Holliday
"Mmmmmmmmmmm...I have coffee. But thank you."
He is quiet again, until the question. "I'm fine. I had an interesting night. Involving actually getting into the pool at the House. Which, while it went as well as it could, was not exactly an experience that led to the most peaceful of nights. But, never fear. I have coffee. And a fantastic wine cellar. I so have this."
He smiles a little. "How are you?"
Alexander
[Per+Emp - you really ok?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Alexander
Alexander remembers. He remembers meeting Kalen at the House one time, resting his legs in the water of the Node, and how wary he had been. He remembers a black river of souls – how could he forget that when he still woke sweating from an occasional nightmare about it – and the same guard that came up as Alex had approached the water. And so he looks closer at Kalen, seeing if he was fine or ‘fine’. A state he was no stranger to himself. It seems to be the former, to the relief of Alex. Nothing more sinister than exhaustion, so coffee probably is the better option compared to soup.
“I’m good. I’ve just been thinking, I guess. Always a dangerous thing to be doing.” He turns back to staring at the sky. “Wondering where we came from. Where we’re going.”
Contemplating the light stuff.
Kalen Holliday
"I used to think that I wanted to pull apart all of that. Sometimes I still do. I'm not sure that's the important part anymore." He takes a drink of the coffee which only slightly singes his tongue, then sets the coffee on the grass beside the blanket and rolls onto his back so he can look up at the stars.
"I'm starting to suspect seeing knowledge and experience as simply a means to some final resolution is robbing them of their own intrinsic beauty." He sighs. "Maybe where we go matters less than how we feel about it when we get there."
Alexander
“Or how we get there. There’s the whole thing about the journey being more important than actually arriving at the destination. I think that’s important. But that’s only part of it.” He turns to glance at Kalen’s form on the blanket next to him, all washed out colours. “I think I envy you sometimes. You at least have an idea of how everything came to be.”
Alexander sighs, a lengthy thing followed by more moments of silence, as he shifts position to cross his arms behind his head to prop it up a little more. “I don’t buy into the whole word of God creating everything in a week thing. Nothing exploding? Not convinced either. So.” He shrugs, shoulders rubbing against the coarse weave of the blanket.
Grace
[Awareness!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Kalen Holliday
Kalen's eyes drift closed, though he is still listening. "I see what I see. There are as many interpretations of the dawn of Creation as there are people in it, at least. More than that, if you count revised opinions.
"But they are, all of them, interpretations. Whatever the answer is, I'm not sure that we will ever explain it with science or with magic. I don't know that we really need to. There are mysteries, and I want to know their answers. I want search out greater truths and absolute knowledge, I cannot help that.
"But...for some things, I don't think knowledge will serve better than acceptance. And for when some explanation would be welcome...I wish that I could share my faith. Alas, that is not the kind of thing one can borrow." He opens his eyes halfway so he can rest a hand on Alexander's shoulder without worrying about hitting him in the nose. "I hope that you find your answers. Until then, I am here."
"And after. That too."
Grace
There was a night when Grace came to this park and a vampire shoved living shadows down her throat and (temporarily) turned her into a screaming, terrorized thing. Well, that's almost to be expected, right? Temporarily. Said vampire is now deader than she was previously. A remarkable improvement. Also, likely a warning to vampires everywhere that fucking with random people in Washington Park at night is a bad idea because this is Mage territory.
And if they don't have that idea? Well. Grace isn't afraid enough to back down anyway. It's not her thing.
So, it's with a bit of self-assured nonchalance that she returns to this place even now, to join Kalen. Maybe she doesn't have an exact location, but she knows he's here. And she can sense the presence of rain in a desert, the lightning striking hot sand. That's enough. If it weren't, she could alwaysforce the issue.
She walks up, likely as yet unseen, even though Kalen will surely feel her. Night makes it even easier to hide, and she is so good at that already.
"Pff. Please. We all know that the universe is a holographic simulation whose data is encoded two-dimensionally. There, I totally explained it."
For the record, the sarcasm just rolls off of those sentences. She's totally serious and not at the same time.
Alexander
“A shame, it would make answering questions like these a whole lot easier. But I guess this is just one of those things where the journey is just as important.” Just then, the train of the conversation gets a little side-tracked with the arrival of Grace.
“Who created the simulation? Or whatever it’s running on. Who created them? The same as the whole work of God thing, whatever side you look at it. How was it created? Where did it all start?”
Alexander takes a breath, a second, a moment. “Unless the whole thing was always here?” He rests his hand on Kalen’s, making the contact a little stronger, before returning his hand to its position behind his head.
“Thinking is hard.” He is joking and the humour in his voice is obvious, as it comes through his smile.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen leaves his hand on Alexander's shoulder and allows his eyes to drift closed again. Both Grace's explanation of the universe and Alexander's observation that thinking is hard get little amused huffs of sound that he doesn't summon enough energy to turn into a real laugh.
"The Buddha generally refused to answer questions about the nature of the moment of Creation," he says, because of course he knows this. Kalen could probably recite at least half a dozen creation stories. "On account of it not serving any great purpose, that knowledge. You might like Buddhism, Alce.
"Some versions more than others. But there are parts of the philosophy that might suit you."
There is another sound that would be a laugh. "You could also try Socrates, but the legacy of Socrates is partly that those who seek the truth and encourage others to cast aside their illusions are condemned and killed. So if you go that route, do try to avoid the tragic death death by people who refuse enlightenment ending.
"Fucking brilliant though, Socrates."
Jo Hamilton
It's that time of year.
That time of year when students pile into places of learning, shove their noses in books, and hope for osmosis. It never happens, and many saddened hearts walk away with letter grades that are meant to indicate how much a failure they really were.
It's the end of that time in that the week has left them and now they are left with their sadness. Most of them will drink it away anyway, so it doesn't matter that much does it? Jo doesn't drink (yet), mostly because she doesn't have any friends who have that much dedication to alcohol to skirt the rules...and everyone knows her gaming skillz will drop and she'll lose a round of LoL and lose her entire reputation. Duh. Instead she seeks out carbs, and sugar, or sugary carbs, or sugar drenched in carbs or.. wait..carbs drenched in sugar? That's more like it.
That means she's on her bike. Somewhere. With her cellphone. At that's really all she needs to make it in the world. Especially when one considers that sugar carbs are best enjoyed with company. So it's a very simple thing to send a message to Grace, who has so far shown herself to be something of a waffle fairy.
Dude.
Comes the first text.
Sugar?
Comes the second text.
4 realsies?
Comes the third. Because Jo never does things half-assed. One must annoy the shit out of someone.
Grace
"Personally, since I've seen people in this universe write their own universes which then go on to be separate things in their own right? It might just be universes all the way down," Grace says, shrugs. "Or maybe universes evolve. Successful universes give rise to intelligent beings which allow them to reproduce."
Grace slips down onto the blanket and leans back on her arms to appraise the sky. Looking up into the stars is appropriate for discussions like this.
And then, her phone's text notification goes off.
Three times.
It gets pulled out, and then, oh -- she is stuck inside it.
Jo, do you have some or do you want some? I imagine yes and yes. Am I right?
Alexander
“I guess… If everything is just a continuous cycle, then how it starts isn’t really as important as the cycle continuing. But then isn’t there the whole thing in Buddhism about trying to escape the cycle and stop coming back? Which… admittedly is about the limit of my knowledge of it. Well, that and not swatting bugs.”
Alexander twists his head to look at Grace once she settles and gives another version of The Way Things Are. “What happens if the… parent? Or whatever you want to call it ends. Do all the children just wink out of existence?” Another thought suddenly catches his attention.
“We create our own universes? Do you think that’s an Awakened thing?”
Kalen Holliday
"Well, if nothing else we create our futures and shape the futures of others. Perhaps to a greater degree than others might because of our nature, but really, all things do that. Sentient beings most demonstrably and dramatically, but really all the parts of the whole of Creation, or existence, or this universe, or this reality, or whatever the fuck we can agree on calling it-" And here he sounds only amused, because their inability to come to a consensus on the nature of reality does not really bother Kalen at all. These discussions he enjoys.
"Have some effect on the greater whole. Some are more marked than others, but it's like that rocks into a pond thing. By contrast to our views of the truth of the world, which seems more like the blind men and elephants thing." He says this as though he has forgotten not all people spent years in formal training that included philosophy and little parables for discussion.
Jo Hamilton
It's as simple as....
Yup. Both. ;)
Because Grace knows her too well. Jo never travels without some form of sugar on her person, should starvation set in and she be required to revive herself. This is a viable possibility, Really. Maybe?
Buuuuuut. Jolly ranchers not cuttin it. XD
Though she might have twizzlers still in her bag. Sometimes...sometimes...she found candy in the secret universe that is her backpack. Sometimes things would magically appear...like one big bag of holding for sugary goods.
Where u at?
Grace
Washpark With some cool people.
Even with her face in her texts, Grace is paying attention. Obviously, because as she types out the latest one, she replies: "You know what I wish? I wish the blind men could have just talked to the elephant and asked her who she was."
Type tap type tap...
Bring your own sugar. I am sadly sugar free.
"I suppose it is a possibility that all the worlds could wink out of existence, but so many things are possible I find it difficult to worry about them all until they show up."
Alexander
“I get that what we do – everyone not just us – can change more than we think. I know it’s a simple view of things, but good things generally create good things and bad create bad. I.. think that’s part of why I do what I do. Although I probably didn’t really think of it that way before you guys landed in my life.” He shrugs again, lying back and tracing out a constellation in his mind.
And then Alexander starts getting a little lost in the conversation. “A talking elephant?” He nods, though, when Grace says it’s hard to worry about the multitude of things that are possible. “I’d drink to that one, if there was anything more than water. Unless you can toast with chicken soup?”
Alexander looks over at Grace again. “Did you want some, by the way? Soup, I mean. It’s more than possible that there’s some here, although it might be on the cool side by now.”
Kalen Holliday
"You could steal some of my coffee, but it is tragically non-alcoholic." He manages something resembling an actual laugh. "I'll tell you the elephant story one day when I'm more awake, Alce. It's the best representation of the madness of trying to fight over whose worldview is the right one when we're all just trying to figure it out based on an incomplete knowledge of truth and circumstance.
"If the elephant could talk...it would be a really different story. Though, admittedly, probably pretty cool too."
Jo Hamilton
OMW.
It's a sad state when someone is sugar free. Mostly people are sugar free when they are trying to diet, a point at which Jo finds complete despair. Diet?! Why? All the glories of the universe resides in the magnificence that is sugar! How else are people meant to survive?
She shall remedy this.
The bike has shifted its course. The USS Enterprise is on route to the Galactic Federation of Grace and Co. Captain Jo is confident they shall encounter no alien life, especially not The Q. Oh god..not the Q. Please not the Q.
Thus does she move, the static hum of the modern world gliding its way towards the trio, though she has no immediate knowledge of their where abouts. Sure she could probably do something like...follow a GPS route, but Jo...Jo isn't that kind of person...sometimes. Instead, her search for said trio begins in the most unconventional way (unless you're in a Disney movie).
"I'm wishing...for the one I love...to find me..."
Grace
"Super condensed version? One blind guy says, 'It's a rope, obviously'. He's holding the elephant's tail. Another guy says 'No no no, it's a tree' because he's feeling up a leg. The third guy says 'Dudes, I'm wigged out, it's a snake!' because he's got the trunk and the elephant is probably thinking, 'How about you guys keep your mitts off my trunk please? That's sensitive...' because nobody can talk to the elephant."
She puts her phone back in her jean pocket and resumes staring up at the sky again. "Is there sugar in the soup?"
Probably not.
"Also, we have company coming. Jo. She's cool."
Alexander
“Buddhism’s the reincarnation one, isn’t it? It would be quite cool if they could remember what it was like to be an elephant. Or, you know, talk to the elephant. Assuming they didn’t have their own version of the Union back then. But I guess a talking elephant is possibly more likely to kick of a religion than a hippy guy talking about peace with everything.”
Is there sugar? “Not a clue, I didn’t read the label on the cans. Probably, though. Does chicken have sugar in it?” And suddenly the reason for needing sugar becomes clearer. “I think it would need to be sugar and water to keep her fuelled.” Alexander shakes his head, remembering her preferred foods.
Jo Hamilton
[All the feeeels perc+aware]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )
Kalen Holliday
"I would just like to observe one of the Order observing you teaching a philosophy seminar," Kalen says in response to Grace's retelling of the story. As though he had not casually proclaimed that Socrates was fucking brilliant like that was all one really needed to know just a few moments before.
"One of the reincarnation ones, yeah. It's a sort of evolution of Hinduism, which is an endless cycle of reincarnation one. Buddhist teachings present a way to achieve enlightenment and thus reach Nirvana, which frees you from the endless cycle of rebirth." There is a slight pause. "Well. Generally. There are bodhisattvas. But I suspect you are not looking for a terribly detailed description of all that at this time."
"There is an all night donut place like...." Kalen waves in a direction. "Like ten blocks that way on Louisiana."
Jo Hamilton
"To find me... today. I'm hoooooping... and I'm dreaming of... the right things...to saaaaay." And ever, ever closer as she feels out the shift and flow of the sensations, like playing hot and cold, only without anyone respond back. Though Kalen... now that's a new one. She's never met Kalen before, and the prospect of meeting another... uh what did they call themselves? Whatever.. another person who -isn't-like-the-others. Mage. Wizard. Sorceror. She can't recall the exact term. Personally, she'd rather be called a lich, just because liches are cool...but that has a completely different meaning entirely.
Anyhow.
The bike comes ever closer, and Jo has no shame about her terrible singing, because she's not trying to win an award or attract her one true love.
"Danger Will Robinson! The Jo-inator is here!" Hot.. hot ... hot.. yup that's them! "Cause like seriously, you're in like some serious need of like ER treatment. No sugar?!"
Grace
"Oh! You know Jo!" Grace exclaims in response to Alex, because yes -- whoever knows Jo knows about her... addiction.
"I'd like to observe one of the Order observing me teaching a philosophy seminar. Do you I think I could make smoke come out somebody's ears?" Grace grins, and it's a little scary.
Speak of liches, and they will appear, apparently. Because Jo takes this moment to show up, singing on her bike.
"I can go without it for like, a while, Jo. Not forever. I think people need small amounts of sugars in their diet anyway to avoid malnutrition. But that's why God invented astronaut ice cream."
Alexander
“We met. There were tacos. She seems nice, if even more caffeinated than Elijah.”
Alexander laughs at Grace’s wanting to make a member of the Order’s head implode. “If you ever give that lesson, please invite me. It sounds so much more entertaining than just telling them to…” there’s a glance to Kalen, although he probably knows exactly where the line of thought was headed. After all, they both knew Alyssa. “Find somewhere else to be.”
“Hey Jo. Donuts actually sound good right now. And more coffee. If you guys want to stay put, I’ll ride over and grab some. It won’t take long.” He rolls over and pushes himself up to standing, happy to leave the blanket and other bits where they are until he returns.
[And, because it’s half 6 in the morning and I kinda need to sleep, this seems like a good time to slip Alex out. Thanks for the scene!]
Grace
[Byee! Have good sleeps!]
Kalen Holliday
"Possibly," Kalen says to Grace. "Some of us can be pretty uptight."
"I'm probably only here another minute, Alce. So I do not require donuts or more coffee. Well...the coffee is arguable, but I think I have a date with a bottle of wine in the near future instead. But I'm sure I'll see you soon enough." There is a faint smile as Kalen props himself up on his elbows.
He looks over Jo, curious. The curiosity is muted by exhaustion, but she did swoop in like some kind of cartoon character, which does catch his attention. "Hey. I'm Kalen."
Jo Hamilton
"I hear donuts." Jo even makes a mock sniffing of the air as she leans over her handle bars, using her toes to keep the bike still and steady. "Dude if there are like, donuts, I am like super there. Cause like some people seem to like think sugar is like some sort of like side food group. Man don't listen to the USDA, or whatever, they are like super whack with their like 'dietary requirements.' For reals? Who listens to that?"
When Alex rises up to wander off, she throws her arm up and leans back a little. "Seeeya! Dude bring back them like ones with the like custard and chocolate! And the glazed! Sprinkles too! Don't forget sprinkles!"
Back to the moment at hand, Jo leans back over the bars, stretching her arms out and letting them dangle lazily. "Yo! Kalen? Dude. Cool name. Like. I'm Jo. Totally normal. Don't tell me you're like against sugar too? Seriously, how do you people like stay up all night?"
Grace
"Some, not all," Grace says, observing Arcturus. "I mean, you're in the Order, and it's like you were handed the stick, but somewhere along the line got distracted and forgot where you were supposed to shove it."
She waves an arm up at the sky, closes an eye, and starts eclipsing stars with her thumb. It reminds her of something, and then her arm thuds back to earth.
"Jo's the one I tested out the laser tag arena on. We're gonna make robots."
And possibly enter into sugar comas. Comae? Comi? Grace is pretty blissed out, and doesn't care about the proper plural of 'coma'.
Kalen Holliday
"Oh, Kit. It's because my entire purpose in life is to beat things with the stick. Evil, mostly, as I recall." Things like vampires, Kalen? Some of which you are allowing to continue to exist. One of which you actually like. Those?
He rises. "I'm not against sugar. Wine has sugar. And I stay up all night all the time, actually. I may still be awake for dawn tonight. I'm just planning to do that with wine. And a book.
"It was lovely meeting you. Good luck with the robots."
[Because, alas, I should also sleep. Thank you for scenes!]
Jo Hamilton
[I suspect a trend! :D ya'll get some sleep]
Grace
[Yeah, we are sleeping too, I think. G'night!]
[Arete, sensing time. Diff 4, -1 for taking time. Aiming for 2 succs to last the scene.]
Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (4) ( success x 1 )
Kalen Holliday
[How awake are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 7) ( success x 1 )
Alexander
[Extending]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (7) ( success x 1 )
Kalen Holliday
[And how distracted by Resonance are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 6, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )
Alexander
As winter passes into spring, so day turns into night. The sun has long set below the horizon and the stars above the city are visible in the clear sky. Points of brightness shine against the black, like metaphors for… well, there have been countless times in history that a few points of light stand against the darkness. The sky isn’t as studded as it would be further away from the city, light pollution drowns out the weaker points in the sky. But there’s still plenty to see.
The park is pretty quiet this late. An occasional person walks through on their way home, or out clubbing, or just for the pleasure of walking on a clear night. Somewhere near the shore of the lake, a thick blanket has been laid out and is currently occupied by Alexander. He’s on his back, staring up at the sky. One arm lies across his chest, the other is bent and used to prop up his head. His senses have been extended, reaching out to feel time as it flows by. The constant tick of minutes and seconds make their presence known as he just lies there feeling it flow.
A large rucksack also sits on the blanket, most of its contents already removed. A flask of soup lies nearby, the cup long unscrewed, filled and finished. A half-filled (half-empty?) bottle of water sits next to it, discarded.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen drifts through the park, sipping gingerly at a cup of coffee that is too hot to be a comfortable temperature for drinking. He had a fascinating night last night, but it was a fascinating night that led to dreaming. Still. It was a night he would keep. Dreams or no dreams.
He comes here, to the lake, where he thinks of meeting the Message. He finds Alexander, who he also met here, though he associates the House with Alexander more than this place. Still, he has found Alexander here more than the Message, and has stopped being surprised by things so mundane as chance meetings.
There is no hesitation as he approaches Alexander, he just comes up to him and lays wordlessly on the blanket beside him, on his side and a bit to one edge of the blanket. The color in his eyes is drowned out by shadows, both the kind that came with dusk and the ones that darken the skin beneath his eyes. The dusk-shadows might hide those a bit, but he's still ghost-pale, and in what little light there is that is only more apparent.
He watches Alexander, silent and intent. Patient. It's a greeting perhaps more suited a cat than a person.
Alexander
[Awareness?}
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6) ( success x 1 )
Alexander
A storm approaches Alexander and his small spread of stuff. It’s a familiar storm, though. One that he knows and trusts enough to stay where he is as it nears, attention more focussed on the sky and the passing of time than on Kalen lying next to him.
“Hey. There’s soup, if you want some. It should still be warm.” Alexander’s tone is thoughtful, maybe a little distracted, when he greets Kalen without initially turning to look. “Chicken.” He does look, though, after some moments pass and sees him in the glow of the moon and the radiant glow of the city lights.
“You ok?”
Kalen Holliday
"Mmmmmmmmmmm...I have coffee. But thank you."
He is quiet again, until the question. "I'm fine. I had an interesting night. Involving actually getting into the pool at the House. Which, while it went as well as it could, was not exactly an experience that led to the most peaceful of nights. But, never fear. I have coffee. And a fantastic wine cellar. I so have this."
He smiles a little. "How are you?"
Alexander
[Per+Emp - you really ok?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )
Alexander
Alexander remembers. He remembers meeting Kalen at the House one time, resting his legs in the water of the Node, and how wary he had been. He remembers a black river of souls – how could he forget that when he still woke sweating from an occasional nightmare about it – and the same guard that came up as Alex had approached the water. And so he looks closer at Kalen, seeing if he was fine or ‘fine’. A state he was no stranger to himself. It seems to be the former, to the relief of Alex. Nothing more sinister than exhaustion, so coffee probably is the better option compared to soup.
“I’m good. I’ve just been thinking, I guess. Always a dangerous thing to be doing.” He turns back to staring at the sky. “Wondering where we came from. Where we’re going.”
Contemplating the light stuff.
Kalen Holliday
"I used to think that I wanted to pull apart all of that. Sometimes I still do. I'm not sure that's the important part anymore." He takes a drink of the coffee which only slightly singes his tongue, then sets the coffee on the grass beside the blanket and rolls onto his back so he can look up at the stars.
"I'm starting to suspect seeing knowledge and experience as simply a means to some final resolution is robbing them of their own intrinsic beauty." He sighs. "Maybe where we go matters less than how we feel about it when we get there."
Alexander
“Or how we get there. There’s the whole thing about the journey being more important than actually arriving at the destination. I think that’s important. But that’s only part of it.” He turns to glance at Kalen’s form on the blanket next to him, all washed out colours. “I think I envy you sometimes. You at least have an idea of how everything came to be.”
Alexander sighs, a lengthy thing followed by more moments of silence, as he shifts position to cross his arms behind his head to prop it up a little more. “I don’t buy into the whole word of God creating everything in a week thing. Nothing exploding? Not convinced either. So.” He shrugs, shoulders rubbing against the coarse weave of the blanket.
Grace
[Awareness!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )
Kalen Holliday
Kalen's eyes drift closed, though he is still listening. "I see what I see. There are as many interpretations of the dawn of Creation as there are people in it, at least. More than that, if you count revised opinions.
"But they are, all of them, interpretations. Whatever the answer is, I'm not sure that we will ever explain it with science or with magic. I don't know that we really need to. There are mysteries, and I want to know their answers. I want search out greater truths and absolute knowledge, I cannot help that.
"But...for some things, I don't think knowledge will serve better than acceptance. And for when some explanation would be welcome...I wish that I could share my faith. Alas, that is not the kind of thing one can borrow." He opens his eyes halfway so he can rest a hand on Alexander's shoulder without worrying about hitting him in the nose. "I hope that you find your answers. Until then, I am here."
"And after. That too."
Grace
There was a night when Grace came to this park and a vampire shoved living shadows down her throat and (temporarily) turned her into a screaming, terrorized thing. Well, that's almost to be expected, right? Temporarily. Said vampire is now deader than she was previously. A remarkable improvement. Also, likely a warning to vampires everywhere that fucking with random people in Washington Park at night is a bad idea because this is Mage territory.
And if they don't have that idea? Well. Grace isn't afraid enough to back down anyway. It's not her thing.
So, it's with a bit of self-assured nonchalance that she returns to this place even now, to join Kalen. Maybe she doesn't have an exact location, but she knows he's here. And she can sense the presence of rain in a desert, the lightning striking hot sand. That's enough. If it weren't, she could alwaysforce the issue.
She walks up, likely as yet unseen, even though Kalen will surely feel her. Night makes it even easier to hide, and she is so good at that already.
"Pff. Please. We all know that the universe is a holographic simulation whose data is encoded two-dimensionally. There, I totally explained it."
For the record, the sarcasm just rolls off of those sentences. She's totally serious and not at the same time.
Alexander
“A shame, it would make answering questions like these a whole lot easier. But I guess this is just one of those things where the journey is just as important.” Just then, the train of the conversation gets a little side-tracked with the arrival of Grace.
“Who created the simulation? Or whatever it’s running on. Who created them? The same as the whole work of God thing, whatever side you look at it. How was it created? Where did it all start?”
Alexander takes a breath, a second, a moment. “Unless the whole thing was always here?” He rests his hand on Kalen’s, making the contact a little stronger, before returning his hand to its position behind his head.
“Thinking is hard.” He is joking and the humour in his voice is obvious, as it comes through his smile.
Kalen Holliday
Kalen leaves his hand on Alexander's shoulder and allows his eyes to drift closed again. Both Grace's explanation of the universe and Alexander's observation that thinking is hard get little amused huffs of sound that he doesn't summon enough energy to turn into a real laugh.
"The Buddha generally refused to answer questions about the nature of the moment of Creation," he says, because of course he knows this. Kalen could probably recite at least half a dozen creation stories. "On account of it not serving any great purpose, that knowledge. You might like Buddhism, Alce.
"Some versions more than others. But there are parts of the philosophy that might suit you."
There is another sound that would be a laugh. "You could also try Socrates, but the legacy of Socrates is partly that those who seek the truth and encourage others to cast aside their illusions are condemned and killed. So if you go that route, do try to avoid the tragic death death by people who refuse enlightenment ending.
"Fucking brilliant though, Socrates."
Jo Hamilton
It's that time of year.
That time of year when students pile into places of learning, shove their noses in books, and hope for osmosis. It never happens, and many saddened hearts walk away with letter grades that are meant to indicate how much a failure they really were.
It's the end of that time in that the week has left them and now they are left with their sadness. Most of them will drink it away anyway, so it doesn't matter that much does it? Jo doesn't drink (yet), mostly because she doesn't have any friends who have that much dedication to alcohol to skirt the rules...and everyone knows her gaming skillz will drop and she'll lose a round of LoL and lose her entire reputation. Duh. Instead she seeks out carbs, and sugar, or sugary carbs, or sugar drenched in carbs or.. wait..carbs drenched in sugar? That's more like it.
That means she's on her bike. Somewhere. With her cellphone. At that's really all she needs to make it in the world. Especially when one considers that sugar carbs are best enjoyed with company. So it's a very simple thing to send a message to Grace, who has so far shown herself to be something of a waffle fairy.
Dude.
Comes the first text.
Sugar?
Comes the second text.
4 realsies?
Comes the third. Because Jo never does things half-assed. One must annoy the shit out of someone.
Grace
"Personally, since I've seen people in this universe write their own universes which then go on to be separate things in their own right? It might just be universes all the way down," Grace says, shrugs. "Or maybe universes evolve. Successful universes give rise to intelligent beings which allow them to reproduce."
Grace slips down onto the blanket and leans back on her arms to appraise the sky. Looking up into the stars is appropriate for discussions like this.
And then, her phone's text notification goes off.
Three times.
It gets pulled out, and then, oh -- she is stuck inside it.
Jo, do you have some or do you want some? I imagine yes and yes. Am I right?
Alexander
“I guess… If everything is just a continuous cycle, then how it starts isn’t really as important as the cycle continuing. But then isn’t there the whole thing in Buddhism about trying to escape the cycle and stop coming back? Which… admittedly is about the limit of my knowledge of it. Well, that and not swatting bugs.”
Alexander twists his head to look at Grace once she settles and gives another version of The Way Things Are. “What happens if the… parent? Or whatever you want to call it ends. Do all the children just wink out of existence?” Another thought suddenly catches his attention.
“We create our own universes? Do you think that’s an Awakened thing?”
Kalen Holliday
"Well, if nothing else we create our futures and shape the futures of others. Perhaps to a greater degree than others might because of our nature, but really, all things do that. Sentient beings most demonstrably and dramatically, but really all the parts of the whole of Creation, or existence, or this universe, or this reality, or whatever the fuck we can agree on calling it-" And here he sounds only amused, because their inability to come to a consensus on the nature of reality does not really bother Kalen at all. These discussions he enjoys.
"Have some effect on the greater whole. Some are more marked than others, but it's like that rocks into a pond thing. By contrast to our views of the truth of the world, which seems more like the blind men and elephants thing." He says this as though he has forgotten not all people spent years in formal training that included philosophy and little parables for discussion.
Jo Hamilton
It's as simple as....
Yup. Both. ;)
Because Grace knows her too well. Jo never travels without some form of sugar on her person, should starvation set in and she be required to revive herself. This is a viable possibility, Really. Maybe?
Buuuuuut. Jolly ranchers not cuttin it. XD
Though she might have twizzlers still in her bag. Sometimes...sometimes...she found candy in the secret universe that is her backpack. Sometimes things would magically appear...like one big bag of holding for sugary goods.
Where u at?
Grace
Washpark With some cool people.
Even with her face in her texts, Grace is paying attention. Obviously, because as she types out the latest one, she replies: "You know what I wish? I wish the blind men could have just talked to the elephant and asked her who she was."
Type tap type tap...
Bring your own sugar. I am sadly sugar free.
"I suppose it is a possibility that all the worlds could wink out of existence, but so many things are possible I find it difficult to worry about them all until they show up."
Alexander
“I get that what we do – everyone not just us – can change more than we think. I know it’s a simple view of things, but good things generally create good things and bad create bad. I.. think that’s part of why I do what I do. Although I probably didn’t really think of it that way before you guys landed in my life.” He shrugs again, lying back and tracing out a constellation in his mind.
And then Alexander starts getting a little lost in the conversation. “A talking elephant?” He nods, though, when Grace says it’s hard to worry about the multitude of things that are possible. “I’d drink to that one, if there was anything more than water. Unless you can toast with chicken soup?”
Alexander looks over at Grace again. “Did you want some, by the way? Soup, I mean. It’s more than possible that there’s some here, although it might be on the cool side by now.”
Kalen Holliday
"You could steal some of my coffee, but it is tragically non-alcoholic." He manages something resembling an actual laugh. "I'll tell you the elephant story one day when I'm more awake, Alce. It's the best representation of the madness of trying to fight over whose worldview is the right one when we're all just trying to figure it out based on an incomplete knowledge of truth and circumstance.
"If the elephant could talk...it would be a really different story. Though, admittedly, probably pretty cool too."
Jo Hamilton
OMW.
It's a sad state when someone is sugar free. Mostly people are sugar free when they are trying to diet, a point at which Jo finds complete despair. Diet?! Why? All the glories of the universe resides in the magnificence that is sugar! How else are people meant to survive?
She shall remedy this.
The bike has shifted its course. The USS Enterprise is on route to the Galactic Federation of Grace and Co. Captain Jo is confident they shall encounter no alien life, especially not The Q. Oh god..not the Q. Please not the Q.
Thus does she move, the static hum of the modern world gliding its way towards the trio, though she has no immediate knowledge of their where abouts. Sure she could probably do something like...follow a GPS route, but Jo...Jo isn't that kind of person...sometimes. Instead, her search for said trio begins in the most unconventional way (unless you're in a Disney movie).
"I'm wishing...for the one I love...to find me..."
Grace
"Super condensed version? One blind guy says, 'It's a rope, obviously'. He's holding the elephant's tail. Another guy says 'No no no, it's a tree' because he's feeling up a leg. The third guy says 'Dudes, I'm wigged out, it's a snake!' because he's got the trunk and the elephant is probably thinking, 'How about you guys keep your mitts off my trunk please? That's sensitive...' because nobody can talk to the elephant."
She puts her phone back in her jean pocket and resumes staring up at the sky again. "Is there sugar in the soup?"
Probably not.
"Also, we have company coming. Jo. She's cool."
Alexander
“Buddhism’s the reincarnation one, isn’t it? It would be quite cool if they could remember what it was like to be an elephant. Or, you know, talk to the elephant. Assuming they didn’t have their own version of the Union back then. But I guess a talking elephant is possibly more likely to kick of a religion than a hippy guy talking about peace with everything.”
Is there sugar? “Not a clue, I didn’t read the label on the cans. Probably, though. Does chicken have sugar in it?” And suddenly the reason for needing sugar becomes clearer. “I think it would need to be sugar and water to keep her fuelled.” Alexander shakes his head, remembering her preferred foods.
Jo Hamilton
[All the feeeels perc+aware]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 3, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )
Kalen Holliday
"I would just like to observe one of the Order observing you teaching a philosophy seminar," Kalen says in response to Grace's retelling of the story. As though he had not casually proclaimed that Socrates was fucking brilliant like that was all one really needed to know just a few moments before.
"One of the reincarnation ones, yeah. It's a sort of evolution of Hinduism, which is an endless cycle of reincarnation one. Buddhist teachings present a way to achieve enlightenment and thus reach Nirvana, which frees you from the endless cycle of rebirth." There is a slight pause. "Well. Generally. There are bodhisattvas. But I suspect you are not looking for a terribly detailed description of all that at this time."
"There is an all night donut place like...." Kalen waves in a direction. "Like ten blocks that way on Louisiana."
Jo Hamilton
"To find me... today. I'm hoooooping... and I'm dreaming of... the right things...to saaaaay." And ever, ever closer as she feels out the shift and flow of the sensations, like playing hot and cold, only without anyone respond back. Though Kalen... now that's a new one. She's never met Kalen before, and the prospect of meeting another... uh what did they call themselves? Whatever.. another person who -isn't-like-the-others. Mage. Wizard. Sorceror. She can't recall the exact term. Personally, she'd rather be called a lich, just because liches are cool...but that has a completely different meaning entirely.
Anyhow.
The bike comes ever closer, and Jo has no shame about her terrible singing, because she's not trying to win an award or attract her one true love.
"Danger Will Robinson! The Jo-inator is here!" Hot.. hot ... hot.. yup that's them! "Cause like seriously, you're in like some serious need of like ER treatment. No sugar?!"
Grace
"Oh! You know Jo!" Grace exclaims in response to Alex, because yes -- whoever knows Jo knows about her... addiction.
"I'd like to observe one of the Order observing me teaching a philosophy seminar. Do you I think I could make smoke come out somebody's ears?" Grace grins, and it's a little scary.
Speak of liches, and they will appear, apparently. Because Jo takes this moment to show up, singing on her bike.
"I can go without it for like, a while, Jo. Not forever. I think people need small amounts of sugars in their diet anyway to avoid malnutrition. But that's why God invented astronaut ice cream."
Alexander
“We met. There were tacos. She seems nice, if even more caffeinated than Elijah.”
Alexander laughs at Grace’s wanting to make a member of the Order’s head implode. “If you ever give that lesson, please invite me. It sounds so much more entertaining than just telling them to…” there’s a glance to Kalen, although he probably knows exactly where the line of thought was headed. After all, they both knew Alyssa. “Find somewhere else to be.”
“Hey Jo. Donuts actually sound good right now. And more coffee. If you guys want to stay put, I’ll ride over and grab some. It won’t take long.” He rolls over and pushes himself up to standing, happy to leave the blanket and other bits where they are until he returns.
[And, because it’s half 6 in the morning and I kinda need to sleep, this seems like a good time to slip Alex out. Thanks for the scene!]
Grace
[Byee! Have good sleeps!]
Kalen Holliday
"Possibly," Kalen says to Grace. "Some of us can be pretty uptight."
"I'm probably only here another minute, Alce. So I do not require donuts or more coffee. Well...the coffee is arguable, but I think I have a date with a bottle of wine in the near future instead. But I'm sure I'll see you soon enough." There is a faint smile as Kalen props himself up on his elbows.
He looks over Jo, curious. The curiosity is muted by exhaustion, but she did swoop in like some kind of cartoon character, which does catch his attention. "Hey. I'm Kalen."
Jo Hamilton
"I hear donuts." Jo even makes a mock sniffing of the air as she leans over her handle bars, using her toes to keep the bike still and steady. "Dude if there are like, donuts, I am like super there. Cause like some people seem to like think sugar is like some sort of like side food group. Man don't listen to the USDA, or whatever, they are like super whack with their like 'dietary requirements.' For reals? Who listens to that?"
When Alex rises up to wander off, she throws her arm up and leans back a little. "Seeeya! Dude bring back them like ones with the like custard and chocolate! And the glazed! Sprinkles too! Don't forget sprinkles!"
Back to the moment at hand, Jo leans back over the bars, stretching her arms out and letting them dangle lazily. "Yo! Kalen? Dude. Cool name. Like. I'm Jo. Totally normal. Don't tell me you're like against sugar too? Seriously, how do you people like stay up all night?"
Grace
"Some, not all," Grace says, observing Arcturus. "I mean, you're in the Order, and it's like you were handed the stick, but somewhere along the line got distracted and forgot where you were supposed to shove it."
She waves an arm up at the sky, closes an eye, and starts eclipsing stars with her thumb. It reminds her of something, and then her arm thuds back to earth.
"Jo's the one I tested out the laser tag arena on. We're gonna make robots."
And possibly enter into sugar comas. Comae? Comi? Grace is pretty blissed out, and doesn't care about the proper plural of 'coma'.
Kalen Holliday
"Oh, Kit. It's because my entire purpose in life is to beat things with the stick. Evil, mostly, as I recall." Things like vampires, Kalen? Some of which you are allowing to continue to exist. One of which you actually like. Those?
He rises. "I'm not against sugar. Wine has sugar. And I stay up all night all the time, actually. I may still be awake for dawn tonight. I'm just planning to do that with wine. And a book.
"It was lovely meeting you. Good luck with the robots."
[Because, alas, I should also sleep. Thank you for scenes!]
Jo Hamilton
[I suspect a trend! :D ya'll get some sleep]
Grace
[Yeah, we are sleeping too, I think. G'night!]
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Fighting Lessons
Ian
[Jae-shin's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 1
Ian
[Ian's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 4 )
Ian
Washington Park was full of visitors today - the lush, green landscape dotted with joggers and frisbee players, college kids playing basketball, boisterous children playing hide and seek in the trees and elderly couples walking hand in hand by the lake. The weather was lovely, a welcome change of pace from the cold snap that had hit earlier in the week. The evening sun was a warm golden glow shining through the trees. Ian and Jae-shin were sparring in the grass near one of the flower gardens. Maybe it was the weather (that infectious thrill of spring,) but the today the practice had an air of playfulness about it. Ian grinned as they danced around each other, breathing hard. His pulse beat out a rough rhythm in his ears, and sweat shone on his exposed skin. He had on a pair of tapered silver athletic pants, but was otherwise shirtless and barefoot. His toes dug into the soft earth before he lifted off in a tight, predatory spring.
The attack was swift and elegant, but Jae-shin was just fast enough to block it. After a series of swift blows, Jae-shin finally managed to land a hard kick to Ian's side. Ian exhaled roughly at the impact only to dance away, shaking his head with a laugh.
"Careful, I might start fighting for real."
Jae-shin's expression was quietly challenging.
Serafíne
Awareness.
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2
Jo Hamilton
[Jo Hamilton uses SPLASH!]
Serafíne
Among the visitors: someone, you know? Who knows, who has some hint of, every strange tracery of magick in the air tonight. Who is: enthralled by it and entombed by it and entangled by it. Follows that thread from god knows how far away to the place where it makes a new, strange knot.
Ian and his partner have an audience. Probably they are too intent on each other to take note of anything more than the impression of blond hair left loose, streaming into a wild tangled mass when the wind kicks up. The sensation of her resonance: gut-wrenching, enthralling, threshold-hovering right there. Right there. Right there.
Sera is wearing something close to preppy drag: a highwaisted skirt, pleated and short, with silver buttons precise at the waist. A longsleeved, rather high-necked little jacket, also black, with more silver buttons in marching military-themed rows, the cut of which would be conservation were it not, you know, so very short: the undercurve of her breasts, the spare cut of her torso. The dark scrawl of her tattoos against golden skin. Someone's been worshipping the sun: somewhere. Somehow.
Serafíne
(Fair warning guys: I go to bed in an hour and a half, so I am probably going to ignore osting order or I will not get to make another post with these many people in the room. :) )
Jo Hamilton
[I'm fine with that :D]
Grace
"So, yeah. The park!" Grace says, sniffing in the warm air and tree smell. "Places like this are good for distraction-free thinking-time. And you need that."
She walked down a park path with Jo, all decked out in a bright blue shirt with a massive comma on it. Just below the comma, in small text is "or 1=1 --". If we're going to teach, do it right, right? Be the exploit.
"So, first off -- you say you want to learn about electricity and stuff like that? First, I want to know -- what do you think of the physical things? The elements, atoms, that kind of thing? Because it's all related. Well, okay, it is all all related, but forces and matter more so than most."
Lavinia
[Per+aware, oooh?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )
Jo Hamilton
[Do I sense decepticons?! per+aware]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )
Jo Hamilton
She needs distraction free thinking.
This is what Grace says to Jo, who has her cellphone out in her hand and is plugging away at something. Because Jo... Jo doesn't know the meaning of 'distraction-free' unless what Grace really means is boredom. Jo moves too much to ever be distraction free; always thinking, always searching.
The day has been warm, though the temperature has dropped dramatically from her time on campus, and she's dressed accordingly. Her black tank is lit up with yellow letters spelling out 'IN TRAINING TO BE BATMAN' with the bat symbol displayed at the top. And capri light pants (do men call their long shorts capris or shorts?). Of course, her wrists are touched with all manner of things to decorate them (probably gutted someone's computer somewhere, hopefully they don't know about it).
"Huh? Oh right yeah like.. Ok well I mean like, it's just coding right? Like a background program.. like ya know.. like your desktop wallpaper. Or maybe it's like, like an if-then statement. Like if THIS coding happens, do this! Ya know like.. dude how did the Matrix explain it? Where's trinity when you need her?" Jo hummed. She hummed like the powerlines. Always moving, but never radically. Predictable. Necessary. Pulling humanity along, whether it liked it or not.
Lavinia
It's actually a beautiful day. More than a beautiful day, it's fan-fucking-tastic. She had been spending time with friends, some people she had concluded were decent company, regardless of whether or not they had a roof over their head. There but before the grace of God go she, and all that jazz. She remembers being out here, she remembers being hot and being cold, she remmebers thinking that she had better be brilliant or better be talented because otherwise she wouldn't be able to put a roof over her head.
Anyway, it wasn't important. She'd eaten part of a bucket of chicken with the guys, bid them adios and headed on to enjoy the rest of the park. It was a beautiful place, full of frisbee and basketball and trees and- oooh, were those people sparring?
Something felt interesting, and her dark eyes lit up like torches (like she ever had to really wonder about that) and a grin blossomed across her face. THe blonde, with her golden halo of hair and rather remarkable height and capris (nope, those were regular pants, they were just capris because Lavinia Cervantes was over six feet tall) She followed sensation, marched forward in combat boots and a cut up tee shirt (something to hide naturally occuring holes from God-knew-what)
And she headed forward, looking from the men sparring to a blonde sitting and watching and instead her attention went there. Had no qualms with plopping down next to her. Left ear to the lady's side.
"They just start?"
Ian
[Life 3, Better Body diff 6]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Ian
[+1 Dex for 24 hours, woot]
Ian
[Ian's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )
Ian
[Jae-shin's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1
Serafíne
"Fuck if I know," the lovely creature shrugs and the movement threatens to upend whatever modesty the cut of the jacket affords her. She is wearing sunglasses. Yesterday they were framed with skulls. Today, they are black, cat-eyed, the frames studded with silver nailheads. Match to the leather wrapped-round her throat.
This sideglance then, her eyes hidden behind the glasses so large they dominate her angular features, without occluding them. "I just started watching them."
The sun slides across the reflective surface of the dark glass. Moving, luminous.
Grace
"Well, yes. Except that there is no real if-then. If you look deep enough into the code, you might say forces are a type of matter, or matter is a type of force. They are composite objects made of the same general parts. Like, take electrons. Electrons are what carry electricity, which is a force, but they're also the things that help make up atoms. They're the same type of object, just with slightly different variables. So if you already have some theory of matter, it's relatively easy to translate that into a theory of forces."
Stroll, stroll, stroll. Lecture, lecture, lecture.
Ian and Jae-shin.
Cloud.
Wait, what?
"Oh hey! They're doing a thing!"
She turns on a heel and heads over. So, now -- a bright-eyed embodiment of shifting, winged focus starts beelining for the assembly, pseudo-apprentice in tow.
Ian
It was the first time any of the people in the park (apart from Ian's current sparring partner) had seen him since he'd gone Seeking up that mountain peak. The first time Sera would notice the addition of a deeper, more primordial note within his resonance. The primal energy of it coiled fittingly with the rest of his feline characteristics. And as Ian moved, the press of his Will blossomed out, his working evident to anyone paying particular attention. He focused with his pulse, his movement, dancing across the grass with an effortless grace that hinted at his ballet training. And then suddenly he lunged, ducking beneath Jae-shin's arms to knock him in the back of his knee. Ian followed it up with a sweeping kick that took the Akashic's feet out from under him.
Then he pounced, pinning Jae-shin to the grass with a sharp, triumphant grin.
Jae-shin looked up at him quietly, catching his breath. After a moment, he laughed - pleased and surprised. "You cheated."
"You're just mad I finally pinned you." Ian reluctantly released his prize, getting to his feet as he cast a glance toward Sera and Lavinia. When he focused on the latter, there was a light tilt of his head. "Hey."
Jo Hamilton
"Buuuuuuuuuuut matter is just code. So like if it's jsut matter and stuff, then it's just code. Cause like, how could it like be anything else? So is it like a program running? Or like.. it has like a schedule? But like if it's not an if-then, then like why is the weather and stuff all chaotic? Like for realsies?"
Now Jo HAD sensed a new individual, she has just been engaged in her phone and Grace, but now was being aimed in their direction. "A thing!" Jo exclaimed, as if this said everything. "We must like see this thing! Because things, things are cool. Not like those thingie-ma-jigs.."
Jo is right on her heels, shoving her phone in her back pocket.
Lavinia
"Good enough for me," she replied with a shrug. She wasn't wearing a skirt today, like Lavinia ever really paid attention to what she was doing in a skirt, dared egg someone closer to getting an eye full of whatever she was wearing underneath, but we digress. It wasn't important what she wasn't wearing right now. "I'm Lavinia."
Sera got another glance, having the worst time not looking and being taken in by the fact that Sera was striking. Maybe she had painting or chalk drawings on her mind after her last escapade with the awakened populace of Denver. She opened her mouth, but then noticed people approaching and turned her attentions again.
When Ian spoke she nonchelantly watches his lips, not longing but decyphering. Then, her eyes went to his face. "Hey, you two are great," she replied.
That was the voice of a herald. Something that spoke with confidence, that bid fear not, something that brought tidings of joy or the message of something wrathful beyond measure. She is a messenger, or at least that's what her voice seems intent on conveying about her.
Ian
[I suppose we should do this awareness thing]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Serafíne
Then it's over. Ian - cheating - has pinned his partner and Sera, who seems to be both watchful and somehow removed or contained or maybe merely high, notices. Her sharp little chin rises in a way that makes the sun's reflection glint off the nailheads in her sunglasses: or maybe just the darkdark glass.
And she: claps.
You know: for the show.
Around the paper cup, fingers finding her palm. Mouth crawling, curved at one corner that is essentially inhabited.
"Serafíne. You can call me Sera."
This to Lavinia. Nothing to Ian except the fixed attention of her hidden eyes on him, as he rises: from the hold, from the ground. Glances up at Sera, Lavinia, greets the latter. Something arrested in that awareness. She knows everything: feels everything. Every piece of it, which threatens to peel her apart even as she is cinching herself back together.
Grace
"The weather and stuff is all chaotic because it isn't an if-then. There are very few things in this universe that are a true either-or. Mostly, we exist in the grayish in-betweens. If things were deterministic, like an if-then, we would be able to predict the chaos precisely. But as it's all built on probabilities, even so far as the electrons and protons? The world isn't a firmly defined thing. At all. Which is nice, because hey -- that would be way boring."
That spiel having been said, Grace golf-claps to Ian, and plops down next to Lavinia. "I'm Grace. Hi."
Jo Hamilton
"Well yeah but you're like totally simplifying it. Like, it's an if-then statement but it's not like, if Jo sneezes, Butterflies are born. It's like.. like If this person does this, under this, when this, but only while, then this happens, which does this, but only this while this, and so on and so on. Like it's a lot more complicated and stuff. You can totes predict stuff, if you got the code. Like if I knew the whole code, I could totally tell you when stuff is gunna happen. I mean it's be like super easy. But like we're missing the pieces and stuff so it only seems chaotic.
Jo..gives Ian a thumbs up. That is her congrats to..whatever that was. Because Jo isn't into the physical exercises, save one..or two.
"Yo Sera!" Jo gives her a wave and then finally..oh FINALLY focuses on the new one. She twitches her nose, lifts her brows and seems to look as if someone gave her to the key to the gaming store. Grace sits next to lavinia, who is sitting next to Sera. This... no.. this can't be.
So Jo, sits in Grace's lap and leans in towards Lavinia. "So, will you marry me?"
Lavinia
[You're on my deaf side, did I actually catch any of this?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Lavinia
"Sera," she repeats, grins a little at Serafíne, lights up for a second because there is something vaguely hopeful for the woman at her side. She wasn't entirely human, this one. On first glance, certainly, but there's far too much energy there. More than a mortal body can handle (she's fragile, though she doesn't let on. She's stronger than she looks, but she's not as strong as she thinks) "Glad to meet you."
This is Grace. And there she is, surrounded by strangers who feel like- well, now, this one is certainly different, but happens to have the misfortune of being on Lavinia's right side instead of her left. She scoots back enough so that she can kind of see Grace's face. A little. Just enough so that she doesn't have to turn her head to see the woman next to her. Her brows furrow for a second, like she was thinking, like she was straining.
But, once she puts two and two together, the woman laughs, something that is intent and warm and that stuck to the senses. She wasn't terribly loud, but she certainly cut through the ambient sound.
"Lavinia," she offered to the pile of GraJoCe. "Are you tryin' to make an honest woman outta me." Brow quirked, grin widened, "or are you proposing to Sera? I haven't been married in a little while, so I feel the need to clarify."
Ian
Lavinia said they were great. Grace and Sera clapped, as though Ian and Jae-shin had been nominated the evening's designated entertainment. Jae-shin responded to the approval with a hesitant smile, perhaps unsure if he ought to be encouraging the notion that combat was a spectator sport (or perhaps he was just shy.) He got to his feet with a smooth motion, dusting dirt and grass from his legs. Unlike Ian, he had on a tank top, but was otherwise similarly outfitted in athletic clothes. They'd obviously come here with the express purpose of doing what they'd just been engaged in.
Ian, of course, took the applause in stride. The side of his mouth quirked lightly, and he bent down into a loose, graceful bow. Slightly theatrical.
"You guys are welcome to join us, if you like."
The challenge hung in the air, dry and coyly tempting, though Ian did not expect that any of those seated nearby were likely to take him up on it.
Serafíne
Yo Sera! shouts Jo and our Sera tips her coffee mug in the creature's direction. Her head turns; their collective reflection crawls across the gleaming surface of her glasses. Does not comment on if-thens and why-wheres and data because that all sounds like bullshit to her.
Except of course you can predict stuff. She's a seer. The future and the past crack themselves open between her teeth.
They speak different languages, though. On every level.
She is looking at them though: her golden head turned, her chin low over her narrow shoulder, the dark cut of that little black jacket clearly tailored for her: from the width to the length to the glove-like fit of the arms. Custom-made.
Somehow the lift and curve of that cup is both greeting and farewell. It's clear - body language, the way she holds herself - that this is only a temporary waystation.
"I don't believe in fucking monogamy," this to Lavinia, a sideline, a sidelong. "So marriage is pretty much off the table. I think she was proposing to you, though."
Then she's moving, turns around on her heel because she never sat down, just paused in her passage. Glance back at Ian over a dark shoulder. "Ask me when I'm sober. Watch me say yes."
--
That's really all the farewell they get. She's on her way down the path, into the shadows. Sunglasses still covering her eyes.
Grace
It seems that Jo and Grace have already joined Ian and Jae-shin in the physical contact and pinning department, which -- let's be honest here, Grace was not really expecting at this juncture.
Like, how can Jo say that the universal code is a firmly definite thing when she herself is so unpredictable?
She's got a young woman sitting in her lap. This is not a thing that has occurred before, and she blinks. Her eyebrows move a little closer together, and her eyes seek a way out.
"Oh. Huh."
And, she stands up, dumping Jo to the ground.
"Oh, it is chaotic. Just, there are ways of quantifying chaos and analyzing its probabilities. Like, if you know a word starts with 'a', it's probably 'and' or 'at' and not 'aardvark'. But sometimes, it turns out to be 'aardvark', so you cannot completely discount anything. Like people just sitting in your lap, for instance."
Yup. Like that.
"Hi, Lavinia! I haven't seen you around..."
Jo Hamilton
"Tcht. Dude the only wrestlin I' do isn't like, something you'd do in like the park." But she turns her attention right back to Lavinia and Sera, one of whom is on her way out soon enough. "Dude. Nah. Sera totes would reject me. She's like a free woman or something. All rockin it and stuff. See my awesomeness? Just hold her down really." Her lips curl into a slow grin.
"But like for realsies? Yup. Toes asked you. But I mean if you're not cool bein the chick, I'll totally be your waifu. Just don't like, ask me to like cook you anything. Only skills I got be like, mac and cheese or stovetop. True facts. " Jo is in the midst of talking when she goes forward and is dumped, rolling on her back and sitting up on her arms to look at them. "Dude you took my spot. What'd you expect? See you'd know that if you were like in the know of the if-thens of like my software."
Lavinia
She looks at Grace and Jo in the pile together, she furrows her brows and cocks her head to the side. She doesn't quite seem to put two and two together, confusion on her face born from the fact that she can't quite figure out if she actually heard the word aardvark or not.
Just like Grace said, if a word starts with an a it is probably not aardvark but sometimes it actually is aardvark.
There were words, though. A lot of words. A lot of words that Jo said and, even if Lavinia was watching her mouth (and she was) they didn't quite register. The look of query on her face almost made one wonder if she actually spoke English as a first language. (She did, but there were things that she completely mised. Like whatever the hell a way-foo was.)
"Uh..." yep, that is confusion on her face, "I think our love could survive a diet of mac and cheese and stovetop."
She looks back at Ian, contemplates for all of a second before she straightens up just a little. He doesn't expect that someone will take him up on this. She does light up, though, her expression is laced with being delight- ah, the look says, a challenge. That was what she misse about Oliver. She missed sparring with him. She missed having someone to exert herself with, and not in the typical sense that one thinks a lovely young female creature exerts herself.
Oliver wouldn't have done it, anyway. She wasn't his type, for one, and for two she was holy.
Whatever the case, there was a little bit of relief that someone had said something she actually understood most of it.
"Need me to take off my boots? Combat boots are a bitch, but I don't mind. It's up to you."
Ian
"I'll hold you to that," Ian offered in the wake of Sera's departure, though the odds of running into a sober version of Sera seemed small at best. He watched her go, attention momentarily riveted to the flow of her legs and the sun striking off her hair. Then Jo said something about becoming Lavinia's waifu and Ian and Jae-shin both looked at her, then at each other, before focusing on the conversation at large.
As it happened, Lavinia took him up on his offer. When she did, Jae-shin smiled and stepped aside, ceding the ring to Ian. He seemed content for the moment to stand as an observer with the others. Ian, meanwhile, raised his eyes to meet Lavinia's gaze. She had a couple of inches of height on him, and a reservoir of resonance that seemed to sing with angelic grace. These facts alone made her a natural focal point.
"Whatever you're comfortable with." He took a few steps back from the group, leaving a buffer so that no one would get hurt. Then he held himself - still and poised - as he waited for Lavinia to give him some indication that she was ready.
Grace
"If it were a list of if-thens, that would be the most horrible pile of spaghetti mess I've ever seen, Jo. Do you see it like that? I'm so so sorry if that's what you have to parse."
Grace just shakes her head, like she can't begin to understand Jo's way of unfolding the universe. That's just... massively inefficient.
She also completely ignores the whole relationship talk. That's in Here Be Dragons territory as far as Grace is concerned.
"But, I think someday you will find the chaos. Existence cannot happen without it. Creation and destruction and stasis form the first abstraction. From there, all other things split off. They work together to create and do."
And she sits again, next to Jo (not on top of her). Then, she watches just in case she has to stand up again. Probabilities, right?
Jo Hamilton
Jo drops back down again, back flat on the ground. "Man now I gotta get rings and all that. " She was having a good time of it, tilting her head to look at Ian and Lav as they get prepared for sparring. But Grace, Grace and she are still discussing the universe and computers or..where did this start again? Oh. Forces.
"Totes would.But like the software kinda is like a mess. Cause like it's always trying to improve right? So it's never like perfect and stuff. Always all these kinks and stuff you gotta like work out. Bugs right? Bugs and stuff.So like why does the universe need chaos? Like why does it have to be like, chaotic and all that to even exist? What is it like, about chaos that is so like needed for the universal code? Why can't it like... just be envisioned and all that. Like.. well.. like planned is what I mean."
Lavinia
"I'll hold off, they're kind of a pain to get re-laced," she told Ian. Conversational, but no matter how she tried to be casual the sense of otherness always crept in. Unexpected. Unintentional. But other, like a stranger in a strange land, no mater how many lifetimes she's spent here.
She takes a second to walk to the circle. Calm and confident and inspiring.. She has a presence that draws attention, that keeps attention. With resonant voice and a being that radiates a boundless, every reaching, burning ember of forever. "And you don't need rings," she calls back, "jump the broom- be united for a year and a day then reup the next year."
Reup, like it was military service.
She straightened up at that point, taking a stance that was at once comfortable but born out of practicality. Someone who learned to defend herself in a bar and polished up later with actual training. "I'm out of practice," she tells him. Says it with sincerity, too. Deception wasn't in her framework.
She nods, and was most assuredly ready at that point.
Ian
Jo and Grace were embroiled in a conversation about code and chaos and the laws of reality, and meanwhile there was Ian and Lavinia, squaring off for physical combat. They really were a diverse group.
Lavinia said she was out of practice, to which Ian canted his head and asked, "want me to go easy?" It seemed a genuine offer, though something in his eyes glimmered darkly (tempting, challenging.) They had different combat styles. Different ways of moving. Perhaps the element of surprise would do both of their training some good.
[I'll roll init now. +8]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Lavinia
"Nah, what would I learn if you went easy on me?"
(5+1d10)
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )
Lavinia
(oops)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Lavinia
Let it be said that her former companions were the ones who did most of the tactical things. They were the ones who thought things through. She wasn't impulsive so much as she was hindered. A few too many blows to the head, maybe the lack of hearing on one side, something made the reasoning part of her instincts slower. Made up for it in what was plugged into muscle memory.
She moved in, threw an elbow to the ribs. She does fight like she's had to deal with people. Something that spoke of learning rules and etiquette later. Let it be said, though, Lavinia acts and she commits
{action! Elbow to the ribs]
Ian
[Split action, 1a: Evade, 1b: strike to the kidney. First split Dex 5 + Athletics 4 (evasion specialty) -2]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Grace
"So it's evolving, right? The code itself mutating into new forms. You know how life evolves, right? Tiny errors in the DNA code occur when they get transcribed wrong and get passed down. Some of them are terrible, and some of them are beneficial, and the beneficial ones live on. The code of life doesn't think, oh, if I need to avoid light then I evolve an eye, so I'm going to develop an eye blueprint. It just randomly, chaotically, bubbles up.
"Sometimes an error in transcription isn't a bug. Sometimes, it becomes a feature. And thus, matter and forces and life and everything come into being, like an eye evolving on a worm. If there weren't errors, there would be no improvement either. There would just be a single, perfect zero. Nothing. The universe continually moves toward the one by cracking that zero apart, introducing errors which add stuff and do things that become its features. We use chaos to drive that movement toward something."
Ian and Lavinia spar, and Grace is more than content to watch and talk endlessly about chaos, because it's how she does. She's also thoroughly distracted.
Ian asks if Lavinia wants him to go easy on her, and she responds with violence. Grace laughs. "Noooope, she doesn't!"
Lavinia
[aaaand try and land something, dex3+brawl3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Ian
[er, pretend I re-rolled those 10's]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 7) ( success x 1 )
Ian
[Dex 5 + Brawl 3 -3, +1 diff for called shot]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 4, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Jo Hamilton
"Man that ain't no fun. Then you miss all the happy-couple cosplay. Like for reals. That's really why people like get hitched. Cause you know, you don't need to like get married to get laid."
"Thing is, we don't know if like the universe doesn't think. I mean look at us right? We're just like low-end software. Stupid little things. And we're just like self aware enough that we like get it. And we try to mess with it. And since we're just like software, what is thought really? Like is thought what we think it is? Maybe it's just complex code itself that's like thought based. I mean like sure, rocks and stuff can't think, probably, but like...they're simplistic. What if like the more complex the code, the more thought it has? Then that like means like the universe is a thinker, and a better one at that. It's got small thinkers running around doing things so...ya know, collective thought Grace. "
"Course the problem is to think that logic is based on thought. But like, it's really just breaking down biases to like understand how things work. So like..I mean simplistic way.. I see like a cat, and it's white. So then I say, if it's a cat, it's white. Well...that's illogical because in the universe, there are coded many cats that are like many different colors. So it's not that our thought is logic, or like we're trying to like impose order, but that we're trying to understand the order and then like put that into the collective network to create a better program."
"I mean like I see what you're sayin tho, about errors and all that. I just don't know that like, it's chaos necessarily. I mean what if there is like an acceptable level of errors, and like nothing goes wrong beyond that. But that level is just like, there to like help move things forward? But I mean let's say that like sure, ok, chaos and all.. probabilities. You can still predict what's like gunna happen down to a tight likelihood. Like... when I play chess right? There's like certain things that beginners like to always do wrong. Swear it. Like always. I just know it's gunna happen. I mean sure you leave like wiggle room to like fix in case they don't, but nah.."
Jo squints a little as she turns her head to look at the two of them. "See... this is why I don't do that stuff. I mean.. it's voluntary pain. " She thrust her hand in the air though. "Get 'em! " Urging the blonde on.
Ian
Lavinia was fast. Ian only just barely managed to evade the blow, his spine curving back at a sharp angle before he spun on his axis and came around behind Lavinia, using her height to his advantage. She'd feel a sharp tap right over her left kidney where his fist made contact - a blow that could have been painful if he'd put any real force into it.
And then he was darting away, smooth and and agile (even by his standards.) When he met Lavinia's eyes again, he smiled subtly (pleased and impressed.)
Lavinia
That would have been bad. Oh, it would have been something that took the breath out of her, and she knows that. When she locks eyes with Ian she is alight, more the stars than the space between them. There wasn't any real force behind the blow, which speaks to his restraint. One, she thinks. One-zero.
He's grace in motion. He's fast. And she is delighted. Her lips upturned ever so slightly, restrained because she's in the zone. This is training.
And damned if she didn't love training.
Lavinia
[action! sweep the leg!]
Ian
[And again with the split action. 1a: evade, 1b: kick. Rolling to evade, -2]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5) ( botch x 1 )
Ian
[hahahahahaha]
Lavinia
[Dex3+brawl3, diff 7}
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 3, 3, 7, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Grace
"It is chaos because otherwise we could not go anywhere with it. And it is ordered, because without order the chaos would fling us into nothing again. And it grows in the interplay between those two. It is possible for the universe to have many aspects. Like I said, there are very few parts of the universe that are an actual either-or.
"And, I've always felt that the universe thinks precisely because we are not separate from it. You are talking about how I see the thing, like a mind-fractal. Like, individual minds are fractal-shaped, but then beyond the individual is another level of the fractal -- the universal mind."
She leans back on the grass, content to watch the two at their voluntary pain. But see? The universe puts itself through voluntary pain as a way of improvement. Why not us?
Ian
Sometimes, the word really was aardvark. And sometimes cats didn't land on their feet.
Lavinia swept out her leg, mimicking the same tactic that Ian had used to defeat Jae-shin moments earlier. It was a tactic that often failed to be effective when turned on Ian (as Jae-shin could personally attest to,) but this time... it worked. Ian made to jump out of the path of Lavinia's combat boot, but he was too slow, and his balance tipped when she swept his feet out from under him.
He hit the ground hard on his side with a muffled thump and a tight exhale as the breath rushed out of his lungs. And for a second, he just lay there, as though he couldn't quite fathom how he'd managed to end up in the grass. In this distance, leaning against a tree, Jae-shin laughed.
Ian was going to have a bruise on his hip later.
He sat up, wiping some of the grass from his arm, and managed not to look too ungraceful as he got to his feet. When he glanced at Jae-shin, he raised his hand and flipped the other man off in a relaxed gesture. Lavinia, though, got a low chuckle. "I think that probably counts for two."
Jo Hamilton
"But why? I mean that's not really like, a reason. That's just like.. what people say when they don't have an answer but like they want someone to stop asking questions. Dude, it's not really a why, so much as a 'because.' If chaos is like necessary, then there has to be like a logical reason for it. Like why would it be like needed for progress? That sorta thing."
She curled her arms back, hand sunder her head as she watched the sparring. "I guess that's like a way to look at it. Guess I don't see it as fractal, but could totally work. Course not like I'd know how to like envision it other than like..binary or something. "
And then Ian drops. Jo would not consider herself a sports person, unless one counts MMOs and other online games as sports. But when Ian drops, she sits up and gives a "Yeah!" As if her team had just won a touchdown. "Man shouldn't we be like..making bets or something?"
Lavinia
She took a step back so Ian could get up. DIdn't get on top of him, didn't gloat, she just looked ready. That moment when adrenaline tries to push her senses. Her attention swung between Ian and Jae-shin, "you two are definitely friends."
A little admiring, that. Casual, but the barest bit of something else. It was a lonely road to walk, and she'd bid farewell to one of her longest standing companions, lost the other. Cooped up in a motel room waiting to find something to throw her full attention at. This was a welcome distraction, a welcome run of practice.
"Okay, so one-two? That one was more oh god, work than anything. You're pretty damn agile."
Kiara
"I'd go for the leggy blonde, myself. She's got attitude." That, from a voice drifting over near a tree close to Jo and Grace. There's a body leaning easily against it; knee high boots crossed neatly at the ankle; arms over her chest and this wild sort of tangle of dark hair set against dark red lips and a set of eyes harboring no lack of amusement for the scene in front of her.
Kiara Woolfe, if you please.
She hasn't just appeared, not without that tingling at the edges of awareness but it's been subtle tonight.
An idle passing of ways; the brunette's attire suggesting she was on her way from somewhere - or to somewhere else; somewhere requiring heels and a long skirt; a top with splashes of vibrant; glittering color and a short, fitted jacket that hugged in at her waist. A belt sat low on her hips and she seemed; with a brief cant of her head toward Grace; the dip of her mouth as she let her attention wander back to the sparring pair in the distance; quite content to remain a casual spectator.
Ian
And then there was Kiara, who Ian hadn't seen in... too long, really. And she'd just witnessed him getting knocked on his ass by a statuesque blond in combat boots. When he felt her presence, his eyes found her at the treeline and fixed there, as though she was some sort of focal point. Lavinia might wonder at the delay, but his focus was back a moment later, and this time when he looked at his opponent, there was a coil of predatory intent in the way his muscles tensed.
"So are you."
Grace
Ian hits the ground, and Grace's eyes widen like woah.
"Because, chaos is the most efficient method you can use to break a thing out of its limitations. Efficiency. In code, in run-time, in processor cycles. If you want a good simulation, you set up some data, and you set up some simple-as-can-be rules that data has to follow, and then you randomize the fuck out of that. You don't engineer every little thing, because -- yeah, you could do it, but it'd take so much effort. You take it down to its most basic form, and let it evolve into what you need.
"Ian fell, and he'll learn a thing from that, and hopefully not do... whatever next time. Improving. He could have started out perfect, but what if perfection isn't perfect? What if the writer of this universe felt that nematodes were perfection, and created them perfectly, and allowed them to change, but never outside of 'nematode' because... how? Without chaotic fracturing, how would you accomplish that? It'd have to be recoded entirely from the ground up, if you wanted to make something new. It's all about efficiency."
Grace leans back so that her head goes backwards, to eye Kiara. "I'd go for Ian." Even though he just hit pavement. Somebody has to root for the 'underdog' right?
Lavinia
[Declare!: Splitting-
1a: punch to the wherever-the-hell-I-can-hit
1b: dodge the fuck out of whatever is coming]
Ian
[1a: kick, 1b: evade, rolling to kick -2]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Lavinia
[Shit! evade! -3, because split. Dex3+Athletics 3-3=3]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Lavinia
(and one more, because it goes first)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Ian
[and the kick lands on Lavinia's side]
Jo Hamilton
"I know right? " Jo slipped her hand through her pockets, trying to locate something, given hat money wasn't exactly something she had a lot of. "Ha!" She sad as she pulled some piece of something out. "Taffy! I bet a... green apple taffy that she'll kick his butt like woah." Jo even waved it in the air, displaying her prize.
"Is it the most efficient? I mean like, what are we basing it on? See if the universe is built of a code we haven't like, figured out, and like don't know, stuff we're only getting snippets of, then it like, might be possible that the way we see data work here isn't like exactly the same higher up, or like..maybe we're misinterpreting it."
"Dude.. everyone knows mantis shrimp are perfection. I mean for reals. I bet those little guys are really the coders in disguise or something. Managerial programs hiding out like 'yah, we're just gunna be here in the ocean, like all awesome and stuff.'"
"I just figure, I don't know. I mean that's like the crux of it right? Completely got no clue. II'm still like, figuring out the first code I ever ran across. So I figure there's somethin I ain't seeing."
Lavinia
[Attack! second split. Dex3+brawl3-3=3]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Ian
[Dex+Ath -3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP]
Ian
[And they're tied again!]
Lavinia
She doesn't hold back, save for when she doesn't intend to hurt someone. She is invested, her movement is sound, confident after having actually landed a hit against her opponent, only to divide her attentions.
She'd said it before- Ian was agile. Ian knew what he was doing, had command over his body and she came close, so very close to evading that well-placed kick to the side but it made contact anyway. Close only counts with horse shoes and hand grenades, they say. Close to dodging doesn't mean actually dodging. She powered through the movement, tried to land her punch only to find it falling short.
The young woman pulled back at that point. Not ready to give up, but still beaming, still burning bright- a captivating representation of eternity wrapped in a finite form.
"I gotta figure out how you spread your energy so well. I'm usually one and done, this is a stretch," she compliments. Looks to the trees, back to where she had been, takes in the sights because the sounds fail her.
"Want to keep going?"
Kiara
He feels different to her, Ian. It's there in the way their eyes meet - the way her expression shifts just so - the edge of her smile; the glint of her eyes in the distance and then she's dipping her chin; directing that smile down toward Grace when she's reclining back to meet Kiara's quip with the notion she plans to support Ian.
The underdog.
The Verbena doesn't laugh at that; but she does let her teeth flash. "He does have stamina on his side." Does flick her eyes over the dark haired female beside her as she chatters about data and coding and the universe and - mantis shrimp. Doesn't shift her weight from her vantage point but rather lets her eyes comb the area.
It's not without some suggestion of vigilance; not without the subtle precision of a predator aware of the potential for conflict; for ambush while exposed.
Ian
They were two-for-two now, with Lavinia's impressive sweep countered by Ian's quick evasions and precise strikes. He'd trained in both kick-boxing and kung fu, and the latter showed in the way he moved, particularly in the fluid way he avoided Lavinia's attacks. That kind of training didn't necessarily make him a better fighter, though. The style itself mattered less than the wits and skill of the person using it.
Did he want to keep going?
"I think they're placing bets over there. Let's go one more. We should give them a winner."
Grace
"We should be mantis shrimp. Who doesn't want to see in over twenty colors and create cavitation bubbles that collapse at several thousand Kelvin with their pistol-arms, right? Bad. Ass."
"I don't know if it's the most efficient. And that's the beautiful part of it. There's more left to find out. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're wrong. Actually, we both are. Almost certainly."
"Whatcha looking for, Kiara?"
Lavinia
She gives him a thumbs up, taking the second to recenter and regain her breath. And with that, she was ready again.
[And an elbow to wherever is available, she ain't picky]
Ian
[1a: sweep, 1b: tackle, rolling for the sweep Dex+Brawl -2, diff 7]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 2, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Jo Hamilton
"Totes. Mantis shrimp all the way."
Jo waves her taffy in the air again. "I got green apple riding on you. Like the best flavor ever. " She sat up to look towards the sparring two, then Kiara. "You know like, you can totally come sit and all. I mean I don't bite... well.not like...unless you want me to." She wiggled her eyebrows at her. "But for reals."
Lavinia
[Ack! Stay up! Dex3+athletics3=6, diff8]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ian
[rolling WP to revert to a defensive action since she didn't go down]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Ian
[And Dex+Ath to evade, -3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Lavinia
[Dex3+brawl3=6, diff 6]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
Ian
[and they tied again, lol, dammit]
Kiara
[It's Kiara, she's throwing everything off with her witchy voodoo, tbh.]
Ian
[Between her and Lavinia, there is too much hotness. Ian is clearly distracted.]
Lavinia
[Hot people sparring breaks the universe. True story]
(declare: knee to the somewhere that is legal and respectable to do in an actual fight and not a bar fight)
Kiara
[+1 diff, Kiara Factor.]
Ian
[1a: kick, 1b: punch, 1c: punch, rolling to kick Dex+Brawl -3]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (2, 2, 3, 6, 7) ( success x 1 )
Lavinia
[Land this! Dex+brawl, diff 7]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Ian
[punch 1 -4]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6) ( success x 1 )
Ian
[punch 2 -5]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5) ( success x 1 ) [WP]
Kiara
What's she looking for.
It's been an overcast day but not overly breezy; barely enough to shake the leaves as it passes through the park. Still - it skims over the brunette's form; the briefest gust; stirs the hair that's fallen over her face; ruffles the collar of her jacket. Kiara's focus remains drawn into the distance; a line marring her otherwise smooth brow; drawing her eyebrows together.
Grace's query seems to cut through whatever it is that's distracting her and her eyes swing back; slip between her and Jo. Her mouth reshapes itself into a supple expression of mirth; the faintest trace of flirtation sliding into it like a promise and a dare when Jo says she doesn't bite. "Oh, I always want people to."
She straightens a little and moves around her tree to lean her spine against it; the edges of her jacket falling open; the heavy collection of necklaces jangling together as she does. "Nothing, in particular. I guess it's just - " This, to Grace, with another brief look over; away.
"Habit."
Ian
[Final score: Lavinia 4, Ian 6]
Ian
If it'd been a real fight, things might have gone differently. Maybe that strike to the kidney that Ian had done at the beginning of the round would have ultimately won him the edge he needed to take Lavinia out. Maybe, after knocking Ian onto the ground, Lavinia would have had just enough time to dive in for a killing blow. Real fights were much more brutal, and much less predictable, than sparring matches.
But they weren't really fighting, and it showed in the way that Ian grinned, panting softly as the setting sun lit a warm glow on his tanned skin. In those last few moments, he'd abandoned his efforts to evade Lavinia's blows in favor of an all-out flurry of attacks, striking out with a swift kick that was followed by two strikes from his fists - one to her side and one to her jaw. The final blow was barely a graze, tapping her in the chin as he reeled in his momentum.
She'd landed a solid knee to his rib-cage. If this had been a real fight, it would have broken bone.
"We should do this again some time. Lavinia?" She'd given her name earlier, but not to him.
Grace
"Mmm. I understand," says Grace, and she remembers a time of furtive looks and predator lookouts. It happens. Their lives are not easy ones, but whose are?
"I believe you owe me a green apple taffy?" Grace says, swiveling a look at Jo.
Lavinia
She had no idea what was coming. Expecting one blow, preparing for one, knowing that she could land another, keep them tied, but she wasn't expecting for Ian's sharp mind and sharper reflexes to beat her out in the end. There was one hit, a solid hit, one that was landed in purpose to the gut but she left herself open. Couldn't possibly divide her attention so evenly as Ian could.
His first blow lands easily, she expected one but not the second. Not the third. The final blow was a literal tap on the chin, something she didn't shy away from but did make her exhale sharply, close her eyes for just a second.
There was a certain degree of brutality that came in real fights. There was something she had originally grown accustomed to, that her original knowledge had come from desperation- like being a cornered animal. Growing into something more sophisticated, more practiced, more poised because someone taught her what to do instead of letting panic take hold. She knew this wasn't real, knew it was training and seemed to delight in the fact. Revel in the moment that she'd missed this.
They should do this again. The world came back from pinpoint focus, from the moments where she was paying attention to what was directly in front of her. "Yeah," a confirmation of her name. "Yeah," she repeated, catching her breath and beaming- all radiance, this one, "I'd like that. Do you have a phone number or something?"
A second.
"Or a name?"
Jo Hamilton
Jo grinned. She pulled back her lips to show her white teeth in the widest grin she could manage. "Ha!" She pronounced at Kiara. "Well you know, if you like waltz over here, I'll totally take a few nips. Course you'll have to share with her." She gestured her thumb at Lavinia, finally looking back at the two of them as they sparred.
"Ah man." Jo let out a huff and held the taffy over to Grace. "Next time champ! Next time!"
Grace
[I think I'm just going to have Grace pass out on the grass, because I need to pass out XD]
Jo Hamilton
[this is a solid... because I'm with you there]
Ian
[Thanks for playing guys! I have to take off soon too. Have a good night!]
Grace
[X_X]
[Jae-shin's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 5 ) Re-rolls: 1
Ian
[Ian's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 4 )
Ian
Washington Park was full of visitors today - the lush, green landscape dotted with joggers and frisbee players, college kids playing basketball, boisterous children playing hide and seek in the trees and elderly couples walking hand in hand by the lake. The weather was lovely, a welcome change of pace from the cold snap that had hit earlier in the week. The evening sun was a warm golden glow shining through the trees. Ian and Jae-shin were sparring in the grass near one of the flower gardens. Maybe it was the weather (that infectious thrill of spring,) but the today the practice had an air of playfulness about it. Ian grinned as they danced around each other, breathing hard. His pulse beat out a rough rhythm in his ears, and sweat shone on his exposed skin. He had on a pair of tapered silver athletic pants, but was otherwise shirtless and barefoot. His toes dug into the soft earth before he lifted off in a tight, predatory spring.
The attack was swift and elegant, but Jae-shin was just fast enough to block it. After a series of swift blows, Jae-shin finally managed to land a hard kick to Ian's side. Ian exhaled roughly at the impact only to dance away, shaking his head with a laugh.
"Careful, I might start fighting for real."
Jae-shin's expression was quietly challenging.
Serafíne
Awareness.
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2
Jo Hamilton
[Jo Hamilton uses SPLASH!]
Serafíne
Among the visitors: someone, you know? Who knows, who has some hint of, every strange tracery of magick in the air tonight. Who is: enthralled by it and entombed by it and entangled by it. Follows that thread from god knows how far away to the place where it makes a new, strange knot.
Ian and his partner have an audience. Probably they are too intent on each other to take note of anything more than the impression of blond hair left loose, streaming into a wild tangled mass when the wind kicks up. The sensation of her resonance: gut-wrenching, enthralling, threshold-hovering right there. Right there. Right there.
Sera is wearing something close to preppy drag: a highwaisted skirt, pleated and short, with silver buttons precise at the waist. A longsleeved, rather high-necked little jacket, also black, with more silver buttons in marching military-themed rows, the cut of which would be conservation were it not, you know, so very short: the undercurve of her breasts, the spare cut of her torso. The dark scrawl of her tattoos against golden skin. Someone's been worshipping the sun: somewhere. Somehow.
Serafíne
(Fair warning guys: I go to bed in an hour and a half, so I am probably going to ignore osting order or I will not get to make another post with these many people in the room. :) )
Jo Hamilton
[I'm fine with that :D]
Grace
"So, yeah. The park!" Grace says, sniffing in the warm air and tree smell. "Places like this are good for distraction-free thinking-time. And you need that."
She walked down a park path with Jo, all decked out in a bright blue shirt with a massive comma on it. Just below the comma, in small text is "or 1=1 --". If we're going to teach, do it right, right? Be the exploit.
"So, first off -- you say you want to learn about electricity and stuff like that? First, I want to know -- what do you think of the physical things? The elements, atoms, that kind of thing? Because it's all related. Well, okay, it is all all related, but forces and matter more so than most."
Lavinia
[Per+aware, oooh?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )
Jo Hamilton
[Do I sense decepticons?! per+aware]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )
Jo Hamilton
She needs distraction free thinking.
This is what Grace says to Jo, who has her cellphone out in her hand and is plugging away at something. Because Jo... Jo doesn't know the meaning of 'distraction-free' unless what Grace really means is boredom. Jo moves too much to ever be distraction free; always thinking, always searching.
The day has been warm, though the temperature has dropped dramatically from her time on campus, and she's dressed accordingly. Her black tank is lit up with yellow letters spelling out 'IN TRAINING TO BE BATMAN' with the bat symbol displayed at the top. And capri light pants (do men call their long shorts capris or shorts?). Of course, her wrists are touched with all manner of things to decorate them (probably gutted someone's computer somewhere, hopefully they don't know about it).
"Huh? Oh right yeah like.. Ok well I mean like, it's just coding right? Like a background program.. like ya know.. like your desktop wallpaper. Or maybe it's like, like an if-then statement. Like if THIS coding happens, do this! Ya know like.. dude how did the Matrix explain it? Where's trinity when you need her?" Jo hummed. She hummed like the powerlines. Always moving, but never radically. Predictable. Necessary. Pulling humanity along, whether it liked it or not.
Lavinia
It's actually a beautiful day. More than a beautiful day, it's fan-fucking-tastic. She had been spending time with friends, some people she had concluded were decent company, regardless of whether or not they had a roof over their head. There but before the grace of God go she, and all that jazz. She remembers being out here, she remembers being hot and being cold, she remmebers thinking that she had better be brilliant or better be talented because otherwise she wouldn't be able to put a roof over her head.
Anyway, it wasn't important. She'd eaten part of a bucket of chicken with the guys, bid them adios and headed on to enjoy the rest of the park. It was a beautiful place, full of frisbee and basketball and trees and- oooh, were those people sparring?
Something felt interesting, and her dark eyes lit up like torches (like she ever had to really wonder about that) and a grin blossomed across her face. THe blonde, with her golden halo of hair and rather remarkable height and capris (nope, those were regular pants, they were just capris because Lavinia Cervantes was over six feet tall) She followed sensation, marched forward in combat boots and a cut up tee shirt (something to hide naturally occuring holes from God-knew-what)
And she headed forward, looking from the men sparring to a blonde sitting and watching and instead her attention went there. Had no qualms with plopping down next to her. Left ear to the lady's side.
"They just start?"
Ian
[Life 3, Better Body diff 6]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (5, 6, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Ian
[+1 Dex for 24 hours, woot]
Ian
[Ian's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 6, 6, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 6 )
Ian
[Jae-shin's Dex+Brawl]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 ) Re-rolls: 1
Serafíne
"Fuck if I know," the lovely creature shrugs and the movement threatens to upend whatever modesty the cut of the jacket affords her. She is wearing sunglasses. Yesterday they were framed with skulls. Today, they are black, cat-eyed, the frames studded with silver nailheads. Match to the leather wrapped-round her throat.
This sideglance then, her eyes hidden behind the glasses so large they dominate her angular features, without occluding them. "I just started watching them."
The sun slides across the reflective surface of the dark glass. Moving, luminous.
Grace
"Well, yes. Except that there is no real if-then. If you look deep enough into the code, you might say forces are a type of matter, or matter is a type of force. They are composite objects made of the same general parts. Like, take electrons. Electrons are what carry electricity, which is a force, but they're also the things that help make up atoms. They're the same type of object, just with slightly different variables. So if you already have some theory of matter, it's relatively easy to translate that into a theory of forces."
Stroll, stroll, stroll. Lecture, lecture, lecture.
Ian and Jae-shin.
Cloud.
Wait, what?
"Oh hey! They're doing a thing!"
She turns on a heel and heads over. So, now -- a bright-eyed embodiment of shifting, winged focus starts beelining for the assembly, pseudo-apprentice in tow.
Ian
It was the first time any of the people in the park (apart from Ian's current sparring partner) had seen him since he'd gone Seeking up that mountain peak. The first time Sera would notice the addition of a deeper, more primordial note within his resonance. The primal energy of it coiled fittingly with the rest of his feline characteristics. And as Ian moved, the press of his Will blossomed out, his working evident to anyone paying particular attention. He focused with his pulse, his movement, dancing across the grass with an effortless grace that hinted at his ballet training. And then suddenly he lunged, ducking beneath Jae-shin's arms to knock him in the back of his knee. Ian followed it up with a sweeping kick that took the Akashic's feet out from under him.
Then he pounced, pinning Jae-shin to the grass with a sharp, triumphant grin.
Jae-shin looked up at him quietly, catching his breath. After a moment, he laughed - pleased and surprised. "You cheated."
"You're just mad I finally pinned you." Ian reluctantly released his prize, getting to his feet as he cast a glance toward Sera and Lavinia. When he focused on the latter, there was a light tilt of his head. "Hey."
Jo Hamilton
"Buuuuuuuuuuut matter is just code. So like if it's jsut matter and stuff, then it's just code. Cause like, how could it like be anything else? So is it like a program running? Or like.. it has like a schedule? But like if it's not an if-then, then like why is the weather and stuff all chaotic? Like for realsies?"
Now Jo HAD sensed a new individual, she has just been engaged in her phone and Grace, but now was being aimed in their direction. "A thing!" Jo exclaimed, as if this said everything. "We must like see this thing! Because things, things are cool. Not like those thingie-ma-jigs.."
Jo is right on her heels, shoving her phone in her back pocket.
Lavinia
"Good enough for me," she replied with a shrug. She wasn't wearing a skirt today, like Lavinia ever really paid attention to what she was doing in a skirt, dared egg someone closer to getting an eye full of whatever she was wearing underneath, but we digress. It wasn't important what she wasn't wearing right now. "I'm Lavinia."
Sera got another glance, having the worst time not looking and being taken in by the fact that Sera was striking. Maybe she had painting or chalk drawings on her mind after her last escapade with the awakened populace of Denver. She opened her mouth, but then noticed people approaching and turned her attentions again.
When Ian spoke she nonchelantly watches his lips, not longing but decyphering. Then, her eyes went to his face. "Hey, you two are great," she replied.
That was the voice of a herald. Something that spoke with confidence, that bid fear not, something that brought tidings of joy or the message of something wrathful beyond measure. She is a messenger, or at least that's what her voice seems intent on conveying about her.
Ian
[I suppose we should do this awareness thing]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Serafíne
Then it's over. Ian - cheating - has pinned his partner and Sera, who seems to be both watchful and somehow removed or contained or maybe merely high, notices. Her sharp little chin rises in a way that makes the sun's reflection glint off the nailheads in her sunglasses: or maybe just the darkdark glass.
And she: claps.
You know: for the show.
Around the paper cup, fingers finding her palm. Mouth crawling, curved at one corner that is essentially inhabited.
"Serafíne. You can call me Sera."
This to Lavinia. Nothing to Ian except the fixed attention of her hidden eyes on him, as he rises: from the hold, from the ground. Glances up at Sera, Lavinia, greets the latter. Something arrested in that awareness. She knows everything: feels everything. Every piece of it, which threatens to peel her apart even as she is cinching herself back together.
Grace
"The weather and stuff is all chaotic because it isn't an if-then. There are very few things in this universe that are a true either-or. Mostly, we exist in the grayish in-betweens. If things were deterministic, like an if-then, we would be able to predict the chaos precisely. But as it's all built on probabilities, even so far as the electrons and protons? The world isn't a firmly defined thing. At all. Which is nice, because hey -- that would be way boring."
That spiel having been said, Grace golf-claps to Ian, and plops down next to Lavinia. "I'm Grace. Hi."
Jo Hamilton
"Well yeah but you're like totally simplifying it. Like, it's an if-then statement but it's not like, if Jo sneezes, Butterflies are born. It's like.. like If this person does this, under this, when this, but only while, then this happens, which does this, but only this while this, and so on and so on. Like it's a lot more complicated and stuff. You can totes predict stuff, if you got the code. Like if I knew the whole code, I could totally tell you when stuff is gunna happen. I mean it's be like super easy. But like we're missing the pieces and stuff so it only seems chaotic.
Jo..gives Ian a thumbs up. That is her congrats to..whatever that was. Because Jo isn't into the physical exercises, save one..or two.
"Yo Sera!" Jo gives her a wave and then finally..oh FINALLY focuses on the new one. She twitches her nose, lifts her brows and seems to look as if someone gave her to the key to the gaming store. Grace sits next to lavinia, who is sitting next to Sera. This... no.. this can't be.
So Jo, sits in Grace's lap and leans in towards Lavinia. "So, will you marry me?"
Lavinia
[You're on my deaf side, did I actually catch any of this?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )
Lavinia
"Sera," she repeats, grins a little at Serafíne, lights up for a second because there is something vaguely hopeful for the woman at her side. She wasn't entirely human, this one. On first glance, certainly, but there's far too much energy there. More than a mortal body can handle (she's fragile, though she doesn't let on. She's stronger than she looks, but she's not as strong as she thinks) "Glad to meet you."
This is Grace. And there she is, surrounded by strangers who feel like- well, now, this one is certainly different, but happens to have the misfortune of being on Lavinia's right side instead of her left. She scoots back enough so that she can kind of see Grace's face. A little. Just enough so that she doesn't have to turn her head to see the woman next to her. Her brows furrow for a second, like she was thinking, like she was straining.
But, once she puts two and two together, the woman laughs, something that is intent and warm and that stuck to the senses. She wasn't terribly loud, but she certainly cut through the ambient sound.
"Lavinia," she offered to the pile of GraJoCe. "Are you tryin' to make an honest woman outta me." Brow quirked, grin widened, "or are you proposing to Sera? I haven't been married in a little while, so I feel the need to clarify."
Ian
Lavinia said they were great. Grace and Sera clapped, as though Ian and Jae-shin had been nominated the evening's designated entertainment. Jae-shin responded to the approval with a hesitant smile, perhaps unsure if he ought to be encouraging the notion that combat was a spectator sport (or perhaps he was just shy.) He got to his feet with a smooth motion, dusting dirt and grass from his legs. Unlike Ian, he had on a tank top, but was otherwise similarly outfitted in athletic clothes. They'd obviously come here with the express purpose of doing what they'd just been engaged in.
Ian, of course, took the applause in stride. The side of his mouth quirked lightly, and he bent down into a loose, graceful bow. Slightly theatrical.
"You guys are welcome to join us, if you like."
The challenge hung in the air, dry and coyly tempting, though Ian did not expect that any of those seated nearby were likely to take him up on it.
Serafíne
Yo Sera! shouts Jo and our Sera tips her coffee mug in the creature's direction. Her head turns; their collective reflection crawls across the gleaming surface of her glasses. Does not comment on if-thens and why-wheres and data because that all sounds like bullshit to her.
Except of course you can predict stuff. She's a seer. The future and the past crack themselves open between her teeth.
They speak different languages, though. On every level.
She is looking at them though: her golden head turned, her chin low over her narrow shoulder, the dark cut of that little black jacket clearly tailored for her: from the width to the length to the glove-like fit of the arms. Custom-made.
Somehow the lift and curve of that cup is both greeting and farewell. It's clear - body language, the way she holds herself - that this is only a temporary waystation.
"I don't believe in fucking monogamy," this to Lavinia, a sideline, a sidelong. "So marriage is pretty much off the table. I think she was proposing to you, though."
Then she's moving, turns around on her heel because she never sat down, just paused in her passage. Glance back at Ian over a dark shoulder. "Ask me when I'm sober. Watch me say yes."
--
That's really all the farewell they get. She's on her way down the path, into the shadows. Sunglasses still covering her eyes.
Grace
It seems that Jo and Grace have already joined Ian and Jae-shin in the physical contact and pinning department, which -- let's be honest here, Grace was not really expecting at this juncture.
Like, how can Jo say that the universal code is a firmly definite thing when she herself is so unpredictable?
She's got a young woman sitting in her lap. This is not a thing that has occurred before, and she blinks. Her eyebrows move a little closer together, and her eyes seek a way out.
"Oh. Huh."
And, she stands up, dumping Jo to the ground.
"Oh, it is chaotic. Just, there are ways of quantifying chaos and analyzing its probabilities. Like, if you know a word starts with 'a', it's probably 'and' or 'at' and not 'aardvark'. But sometimes, it turns out to be 'aardvark', so you cannot completely discount anything. Like people just sitting in your lap, for instance."
Yup. Like that.
"Hi, Lavinia! I haven't seen you around..."
Jo Hamilton
"Tcht. Dude the only wrestlin I' do isn't like, something you'd do in like the park." But she turns her attention right back to Lavinia and Sera, one of whom is on her way out soon enough. "Dude. Nah. Sera totes would reject me. She's like a free woman or something. All rockin it and stuff. See my awesomeness? Just hold her down really." Her lips curl into a slow grin.
"But like for realsies? Yup. Toes asked you. But I mean if you're not cool bein the chick, I'll totally be your waifu. Just don't like, ask me to like cook you anything. Only skills I got be like, mac and cheese or stovetop. True facts. " Jo is in the midst of talking when she goes forward and is dumped, rolling on her back and sitting up on her arms to look at them. "Dude you took my spot. What'd you expect? See you'd know that if you were like in the know of the if-thens of like my software."
Lavinia
She looks at Grace and Jo in the pile together, she furrows her brows and cocks her head to the side. She doesn't quite seem to put two and two together, confusion on her face born from the fact that she can't quite figure out if she actually heard the word aardvark or not.
Just like Grace said, if a word starts with an a it is probably not aardvark but sometimes it actually is aardvark.
There were words, though. A lot of words. A lot of words that Jo said and, even if Lavinia was watching her mouth (and she was) they didn't quite register. The look of query on her face almost made one wonder if she actually spoke English as a first language. (She did, but there were things that she completely mised. Like whatever the hell a way-foo was.)
"Uh..." yep, that is confusion on her face, "I think our love could survive a diet of mac and cheese and stovetop."
She looks back at Ian, contemplates for all of a second before she straightens up just a little. He doesn't expect that someone will take him up on this. She does light up, though, her expression is laced with being delight- ah, the look says, a challenge. That was what she misse about Oliver. She missed sparring with him. She missed having someone to exert herself with, and not in the typical sense that one thinks a lovely young female creature exerts herself.
Oliver wouldn't have done it, anyway. She wasn't his type, for one, and for two she was holy.
Whatever the case, there was a little bit of relief that someone had said something she actually understood most of it.
"Need me to take off my boots? Combat boots are a bitch, but I don't mind. It's up to you."
Ian
"I'll hold you to that," Ian offered in the wake of Sera's departure, though the odds of running into a sober version of Sera seemed small at best. He watched her go, attention momentarily riveted to the flow of her legs and the sun striking off her hair. Then Jo said something about becoming Lavinia's waifu and Ian and Jae-shin both looked at her, then at each other, before focusing on the conversation at large.
As it happened, Lavinia took him up on his offer. When she did, Jae-shin smiled and stepped aside, ceding the ring to Ian. He seemed content for the moment to stand as an observer with the others. Ian, meanwhile, raised his eyes to meet Lavinia's gaze. She had a couple of inches of height on him, and a reservoir of resonance that seemed to sing with angelic grace. These facts alone made her a natural focal point.
"Whatever you're comfortable with." He took a few steps back from the group, leaving a buffer so that no one would get hurt. Then he held himself - still and poised - as he waited for Lavinia to give him some indication that she was ready.
Grace
"If it were a list of if-thens, that would be the most horrible pile of spaghetti mess I've ever seen, Jo. Do you see it like that? I'm so so sorry if that's what you have to parse."
Grace just shakes her head, like she can't begin to understand Jo's way of unfolding the universe. That's just... massively inefficient.
She also completely ignores the whole relationship talk. That's in Here Be Dragons territory as far as Grace is concerned.
"But, I think someday you will find the chaos. Existence cannot happen without it. Creation and destruction and stasis form the first abstraction. From there, all other things split off. They work together to create and do."
And she sits again, next to Jo (not on top of her). Then, she watches just in case she has to stand up again. Probabilities, right?
Jo Hamilton
Jo drops back down again, back flat on the ground. "Man now I gotta get rings and all that. " She was having a good time of it, tilting her head to look at Ian and Lav as they get prepared for sparring. But Grace, Grace and she are still discussing the universe and computers or..where did this start again? Oh. Forces.
"Totes would.But like the software kinda is like a mess. Cause like it's always trying to improve right? So it's never like perfect and stuff. Always all these kinks and stuff you gotta like work out. Bugs right? Bugs and stuff.So like why does the universe need chaos? Like why does it have to be like, chaotic and all that to even exist? What is it like, about chaos that is so like needed for the universal code? Why can't it like... just be envisioned and all that. Like.. well.. like planned is what I mean."
Lavinia
"I'll hold off, they're kind of a pain to get re-laced," she told Ian. Conversational, but no matter how she tried to be casual the sense of otherness always crept in. Unexpected. Unintentional. But other, like a stranger in a strange land, no mater how many lifetimes she's spent here.
She takes a second to walk to the circle. Calm and confident and inspiring.. She has a presence that draws attention, that keeps attention. With resonant voice and a being that radiates a boundless, every reaching, burning ember of forever. "And you don't need rings," she calls back, "jump the broom- be united for a year and a day then reup the next year."
Reup, like it was military service.
She straightened up at that point, taking a stance that was at once comfortable but born out of practicality. Someone who learned to defend herself in a bar and polished up later with actual training. "I'm out of practice," she tells him. Says it with sincerity, too. Deception wasn't in her framework.
She nods, and was most assuredly ready at that point.
Ian
Jo and Grace were embroiled in a conversation about code and chaos and the laws of reality, and meanwhile there was Ian and Lavinia, squaring off for physical combat. They really were a diverse group.
Lavinia said she was out of practice, to which Ian canted his head and asked, "want me to go easy?" It seemed a genuine offer, though something in his eyes glimmered darkly (tempting, challenging.) They had different combat styles. Different ways of moving. Perhaps the element of surprise would do both of their training some good.
[I'll roll init now. +8]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Lavinia
"Nah, what would I learn if you went easy on me?"
(5+1d10)
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 6, 7, 7) ( success x 3 )
Lavinia
(oops)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (6) ( success x 1 )
Lavinia
Let it be said that her former companions were the ones who did most of the tactical things. They were the ones who thought things through. She wasn't impulsive so much as she was hindered. A few too many blows to the head, maybe the lack of hearing on one side, something made the reasoning part of her instincts slower. Made up for it in what was plugged into muscle memory.
She moved in, threw an elbow to the ribs. She does fight like she's had to deal with people. Something that spoke of learning rules and etiquette later. Let it be said, though, Lavinia acts and she commits
{action! Elbow to the ribs]
Ian
[Split action, 1a: Evade, 1b: strike to the kidney. First split Dex 5 + Athletics 4 (evasion specialty) -2]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )
Grace
"So it's evolving, right? The code itself mutating into new forms. You know how life evolves, right? Tiny errors in the DNA code occur when they get transcribed wrong and get passed down. Some of them are terrible, and some of them are beneficial, and the beneficial ones live on. The code of life doesn't think, oh, if I need to avoid light then I evolve an eye, so I'm going to develop an eye blueprint. It just randomly, chaotically, bubbles up.
"Sometimes an error in transcription isn't a bug. Sometimes, it becomes a feature. And thus, matter and forces and life and everything come into being, like an eye evolving on a worm. If there weren't errors, there would be no improvement either. There would just be a single, perfect zero. Nothing. The universe continually moves toward the one by cracking that zero apart, introducing errors which add stuff and do things that become its features. We use chaos to drive that movement toward something."
Ian and Lavinia spar, and Grace is more than content to watch and talk endlessly about chaos, because it's how she does. She's also thoroughly distracted.
Ian asks if Lavinia wants him to go easy on her, and she responds with violence. Grace laughs. "Noooope, she doesn't!"
Lavinia
[aaaand try and land something, dex3+brawl3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (4, 6, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )
Ian
[er, pretend I re-rolled those 10's]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (5, 7) ( success x 1 )
Ian
[Dex 5 + Brawl 3 -3, +1 diff for called shot]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 4, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )
Jo Hamilton
"Man that ain't no fun. Then you miss all the happy-couple cosplay. Like for reals. That's really why people like get hitched. Cause you know, you don't need to like get married to get laid."
"Thing is, we don't know if like the universe doesn't think. I mean look at us right? We're just like low-end software. Stupid little things. And we're just like self aware enough that we like get it. And we try to mess with it. And since we're just like software, what is thought really? Like is thought what we think it is? Maybe it's just complex code itself that's like thought based. I mean like sure, rocks and stuff can't think, probably, but like...they're simplistic. What if like the more complex the code, the more thought it has? Then that like means like the universe is a thinker, and a better one at that. It's got small thinkers running around doing things so...ya know, collective thought Grace. "
"Course the problem is to think that logic is based on thought. But like, it's really just breaking down biases to like understand how things work. So like..I mean simplistic way.. I see like a cat, and it's white. So then I say, if it's a cat, it's white. Well...that's illogical because in the universe, there are coded many cats that are like many different colors. So it's not that our thought is logic, or like we're trying to like impose order, but that we're trying to understand the order and then like put that into the collective network to create a better program."
"I mean like I see what you're sayin tho, about errors and all that. I just don't know that like, it's chaos necessarily. I mean what if there is like an acceptable level of errors, and like nothing goes wrong beyond that. But that level is just like, there to like help move things forward? But I mean let's say that like sure, ok, chaos and all.. probabilities. You can still predict what's like gunna happen down to a tight likelihood. Like... when I play chess right? There's like certain things that beginners like to always do wrong. Swear it. Like always. I just know it's gunna happen. I mean sure you leave like wiggle room to like fix in case they don't, but nah.."
Jo squints a little as she turns her head to look at the two of them. "See... this is why I don't do that stuff. I mean.. it's voluntary pain. " She thrust her hand in the air though. "Get 'em! " Urging the blonde on.
Ian
Lavinia was fast. Ian only just barely managed to evade the blow, his spine curving back at a sharp angle before he spun on his axis and came around behind Lavinia, using her height to his advantage. She'd feel a sharp tap right over her left kidney where his fist made contact - a blow that could have been painful if he'd put any real force into it.
And then he was darting away, smooth and and agile (even by his standards.) When he met Lavinia's eyes again, he smiled subtly (pleased and impressed.)
Lavinia
That would have been bad. Oh, it would have been something that took the breath out of her, and she knows that. When she locks eyes with Ian she is alight, more the stars than the space between them. There wasn't any real force behind the blow, which speaks to his restraint. One, she thinks. One-zero.
He's grace in motion. He's fast. And she is delighted. Her lips upturned ever so slightly, restrained because she's in the zone. This is training.
And damned if she didn't love training.
Lavinia
[action! sweep the leg!]
Ian
[And again with the split action. 1a: evade, 1b: kick. Rolling to evade, -2]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5, 5) ( botch x 1 )
Ian
[hahahahahaha]
Lavinia
[Dex3+brawl3, diff 7}
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 3, 3, 7, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Grace
"It is chaos because otherwise we could not go anywhere with it. And it is ordered, because without order the chaos would fling us into nothing again. And it grows in the interplay between those two. It is possible for the universe to have many aspects. Like I said, there are very few parts of the universe that are an actual either-or.
"And, I've always felt that the universe thinks precisely because we are not separate from it. You are talking about how I see the thing, like a mind-fractal. Like, individual minds are fractal-shaped, but then beyond the individual is another level of the fractal -- the universal mind."
She leans back on the grass, content to watch the two at their voluntary pain. But see? The universe puts itself through voluntary pain as a way of improvement. Why not us?
Ian
Sometimes, the word really was aardvark. And sometimes cats didn't land on their feet.
Lavinia swept out her leg, mimicking the same tactic that Ian had used to defeat Jae-shin moments earlier. It was a tactic that often failed to be effective when turned on Ian (as Jae-shin could personally attest to,) but this time... it worked. Ian made to jump out of the path of Lavinia's combat boot, but he was too slow, and his balance tipped when she swept his feet out from under him.
He hit the ground hard on his side with a muffled thump and a tight exhale as the breath rushed out of his lungs. And for a second, he just lay there, as though he couldn't quite fathom how he'd managed to end up in the grass. In this distance, leaning against a tree, Jae-shin laughed.
Ian was going to have a bruise on his hip later.
He sat up, wiping some of the grass from his arm, and managed not to look too ungraceful as he got to his feet. When he glanced at Jae-shin, he raised his hand and flipped the other man off in a relaxed gesture. Lavinia, though, got a low chuckle. "I think that probably counts for two."
Jo Hamilton
"But why? I mean that's not really like, a reason. That's just like.. what people say when they don't have an answer but like they want someone to stop asking questions. Dude, it's not really a why, so much as a 'because.' If chaos is like necessary, then there has to be like a logical reason for it. Like why would it be like needed for progress? That sorta thing."
She curled her arms back, hand sunder her head as she watched the sparring. "I guess that's like a way to look at it. Guess I don't see it as fractal, but could totally work. Course not like I'd know how to like envision it other than like..binary or something. "
And then Ian drops. Jo would not consider herself a sports person, unless one counts MMOs and other online games as sports. But when Ian drops, she sits up and gives a "Yeah!" As if her team had just won a touchdown. "Man shouldn't we be like..making bets or something?"
Lavinia
She took a step back so Ian could get up. DIdn't get on top of him, didn't gloat, she just looked ready. That moment when adrenaline tries to push her senses. Her attention swung between Ian and Jae-shin, "you two are definitely friends."
A little admiring, that. Casual, but the barest bit of something else. It was a lonely road to walk, and she'd bid farewell to one of her longest standing companions, lost the other. Cooped up in a motel room waiting to find something to throw her full attention at. This was a welcome distraction, a welcome run of practice.
"Okay, so one-two? That one was more oh god, work than anything. You're pretty damn agile."
Kiara
"I'd go for the leggy blonde, myself. She's got attitude." That, from a voice drifting over near a tree close to Jo and Grace. There's a body leaning easily against it; knee high boots crossed neatly at the ankle; arms over her chest and this wild sort of tangle of dark hair set against dark red lips and a set of eyes harboring no lack of amusement for the scene in front of her.
Kiara Woolfe, if you please.
She hasn't just appeared, not without that tingling at the edges of awareness but it's been subtle tonight.
An idle passing of ways; the brunette's attire suggesting she was on her way from somewhere - or to somewhere else; somewhere requiring heels and a long skirt; a top with splashes of vibrant; glittering color and a short, fitted jacket that hugged in at her waist. A belt sat low on her hips and she seemed; with a brief cant of her head toward Grace; the dip of her mouth as she let her attention wander back to the sparring pair in the distance; quite content to remain a casual spectator.
Ian
And then there was Kiara, who Ian hadn't seen in... too long, really. And she'd just witnessed him getting knocked on his ass by a statuesque blond in combat boots. When he felt her presence, his eyes found her at the treeline and fixed there, as though she was some sort of focal point. Lavinia might wonder at the delay, but his focus was back a moment later, and this time when he looked at his opponent, there was a coil of predatory intent in the way his muscles tensed.
"So are you."
Grace
Ian hits the ground, and Grace's eyes widen like woah.
"Because, chaos is the most efficient method you can use to break a thing out of its limitations. Efficiency. In code, in run-time, in processor cycles. If you want a good simulation, you set up some data, and you set up some simple-as-can-be rules that data has to follow, and then you randomize the fuck out of that. You don't engineer every little thing, because -- yeah, you could do it, but it'd take so much effort. You take it down to its most basic form, and let it evolve into what you need.
"Ian fell, and he'll learn a thing from that, and hopefully not do... whatever next time. Improving. He could have started out perfect, but what if perfection isn't perfect? What if the writer of this universe felt that nematodes were perfection, and created them perfectly, and allowed them to change, but never outside of 'nematode' because... how? Without chaotic fracturing, how would you accomplish that? It'd have to be recoded entirely from the ground up, if you wanted to make something new. It's all about efficiency."
Grace leans back so that her head goes backwards, to eye Kiara. "I'd go for Ian." Even though he just hit pavement. Somebody has to root for the 'underdog' right?
Lavinia
[Declare!: Splitting-
1a: punch to the wherever-the-hell-I-can-hit
1b: dodge the fuck out of whatever is coming]
Ian
[1a: kick, 1b: evade, rolling to kick -2]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 5, 7, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 4 )
Lavinia
[Shit! evade! -3, because split. Dex3+Athletics 3-3=3]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 8) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Lavinia
(and one more, because it goes first)
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Ian
[and the kick lands on Lavinia's side]
Jo Hamilton
"I know right? " Jo slipped her hand through her pockets, trying to locate something, given hat money wasn't exactly something she had a lot of. "Ha!" She sad as she pulled some piece of something out. "Taffy! I bet a... green apple taffy that she'll kick his butt like woah." Jo even waved it in the air, displaying her prize.
"Is it the most efficient? I mean like, what are we basing it on? See if the universe is built of a code we haven't like, figured out, and like don't know, stuff we're only getting snippets of, then it like, might be possible that the way we see data work here isn't like exactly the same higher up, or like..maybe we're misinterpreting it."
"Dude.. everyone knows mantis shrimp are perfection. I mean for reals. I bet those little guys are really the coders in disguise or something. Managerial programs hiding out like 'yah, we're just gunna be here in the ocean, like all awesome and stuff.'"
"I just figure, I don't know. I mean that's like the crux of it right? Completely got no clue. II'm still like, figuring out the first code I ever ran across. So I figure there's somethin I ain't seeing."
Lavinia
[Attack! second split. Dex3+brawl3-3=3]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )
Ian
[Dex+Ath -3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 5 ) [WP]
Ian
[And they're tied again!]
Lavinia
She doesn't hold back, save for when she doesn't intend to hurt someone. She is invested, her movement is sound, confident after having actually landed a hit against her opponent, only to divide her attentions.
She'd said it before- Ian was agile. Ian knew what he was doing, had command over his body and she came close, so very close to evading that well-placed kick to the side but it made contact anyway. Close only counts with horse shoes and hand grenades, they say. Close to dodging doesn't mean actually dodging. She powered through the movement, tried to land her punch only to find it falling short.
The young woman pulled back at that point. Not ready to give up, but still beaming, still burning bright- a captivating representation of eternity wrapped in a finite form.
"I gotta figure out how you spread your energy so well. I'm usually one and done, this is a stretch," she compliments. Looks to the trees, back to where she had been, takes in the sights because the sounds fail her.
"Want to keep going?"
Kiara
He feels different to her, Ian. It's there in the way their eyes meet - the way her expression shifts just so - the edge of her smile; the glint of her eyes in the distance and then she's dipping her chin; directing that smile down toward Grace when she's reclining back to meet Kiara's quip with the notion she plans to support Ian.
The underdog.
The Verbena doesn't laugh at that; but she does let her teeth flash. "He does have stamina on his side." Does flick her eyes over the dark haired female beside her as she chatters about data and coding and the universe and - mantis shrimp. Doesn't shift her weight from her vantage point but rather lets her eyes comb the area.
It's not without some suggestion of vigilance; not without the subtle precision of a predator aware of the potential for conflict; for ambush while exposed.
Ian
They were two-for-two now, with Lavinia's impressive sweep countered by Ian's quick evasions and precise strikes. He'd trained in both kick-boxing and kung fu, and the latter showed in the way he moved, particularly in the fluid way he avoided Lavinia's attacks. That kind of training didn't necessarily make him a better fighter, though. The style itself mattered less than the wits and skill of the person using it.
Did he want to keep going?
"I think they're placing bets over there. Let's go one more. We should give them a winner."
Grace
"We should be mantis shrimp. Who doesn't want to see in over twenty colors and create cavitation bubbles that collapse at several thousand Kelvin with their pistol-arms, right? Bad. Ass."
"I don't know if it's the most efficient. And that's the beautiful part of it. There's more left to find out. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you're wrong. Actually, we both are. Almost certainly."
"Whatcha looking for, Kiara?"
Lavinia
She gives him a thumbs up, taking the second to recenter and regain her breath. And with that, she was ready again.
[And an elbow to wherever is available, she ain't picky]
Ian
[1a: sweep, 1b: tackle, rolling for the sweep Dex+Brawl -2, diff 7]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 2, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]
Jo Hamilton
"Totes. Mantis shrimp all the way."
Jo waves her taffy in the air again. "I got green apple riding on you. Like the best flavor ever. " She sat up to look towards the sparring two, then Kiara. "You know like, you can totally come sit and all. I mean I don't bite... well.not like...unless you want me to." She wiggled her eyebrows at her. "But for reals."
Lavinia
[Ack! Stay up! Dex3+athletics3=6, diff8]
Dice: 6 d10 TN8 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Ian
[rolling WP to revert to a defensive action since she didn't go down]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 3, 5, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )
Ian
[And Dex+Ath to evade, -3]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 5, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )
Lavinia
[Dex3+brawl3=6, diff 6]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 8, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )
Ian
[and they tied again, lol, dammit]
Kiara
[It's Kiara, she's throwing everything off with her witchy voodoo, tbh.]
Ian
[Between her and Lavinia, there is too much hotness. Ian is clearly distracted.]
Lavinia
[Hot people sparring breaks the universe. True story]
(declare: knee to the somewhere that is legal and respectable to do in an actual fight and not a bar fight)
Kiara
[+1 diff, Kiara Factor.]
Ian
[1a: kick, 1b: punch, 1c: punch, rolling to kick Dex+Brawl -3]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (2, 2, 3, 6, 7) ( success x 1 )
Lavinia
[Land this! Dex+brawl, diff 7]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 ) [WP]
Ian
[punch 1 -4]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6) ( success x 1 )
Ian
[punch 2 -5]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 5) ( success x 1 ) [WP]
Kiara
What's she looking for.
It's been an overcast day but not overly breezy; barely enough to shake the leaves as it passes through the park. Still - it skims over the brunette's form; the briefest gust; stirs the hair that's fallen over her face; ruffles the collar of her jacket. Kiara's focus remains drawn into the distance; a line marring her otherwise smooth brow; drawing her eyebrows together.
Grace's query seems to cut through whatever it is that's distracting her and her eyes swing back; slip between her and Jo. Her mouth reshapes itself into a supple expression of mirth; the faintest trace of flirtation sliding into it like a promise and a dare when Jo says she doesn't bite. "Oh, I always want people to."
She straightens a little and moves around her tree to lean her spine against it; the edges of her jacket falling open; the heavy collection of necklaces jangling together as she does. "Nothing, in particular. I guess it's just - " This, to Grace, with another brief look over; away.
"Habit."
Ian
[Final score: Lavinia 4, Ian 6]
Ian
If it'd been a real fight, things might have gone differently. Maybe that strike to the kidney that Ian had done at the beginning of the round would have ultimately won him the edge he needed to take Lavinia out. Maybe, after knocking Ian onto the ground, Lavinia would have had just enough time to dive in for a killing blow. Real fights were much more brutal, and much less predictable, than sparring matches.
But they weren't really fighting, and it showed in the way that Ian grinned, panting softly as the setting sun lit a warm glow on his tanned skin. In those last few moments, he'd abandoned his efforts to evade Lavinia's blows in favor of an all-out flurry of attacks, striking out with a swift kick that was followed by two strikes from his fists - one to her side and one to her jaw. The final blow was barely a graze, tapping her in the chin as he reeled in his momentum.
She'd landed a solid knee to his rib-cage. If this had been a real fight, it would have broken bone.
"We should do this again some time. Lavinia?" She'd given her name earlier, but not to him.
Grace
"Mmm. I understand," says Grace, and she remembers a time of furtive looks and predator lookouts. It happens. Their lives are not easy ones, but whose are?
"I believe you owe me a green apple taffy?" Grace says, swiveling a look at Jo.
Lavinia
She had no idea what was coming. Expecting one blow, preparing for one, knowing that she could land another, keep them tied, but she wasn't expecting for Ian's sharp mind and sharper reflexes to beat her out in the end. There was one hit, a solid hit, one that was landed in purpose to the gut but she left herself open. Couldn't possibly divide her attention so evenly as Ian could.
His first blow lands easily, she expected one but not the second. Not the third. The final blow was a literal tap on the chin, something she didn't shy away from but did make her exhale sharply, close her eyes for just a second.
There was a certain degree of brutality that came in real fights. There was something she had originally grown accustomed to, that her original knowledge had come from desperation- like being a cornered animal. Growing into something more sophisticated, more practiced, more poised because someone taught her what to do instead of letting panic take hold. She knew this wasn't real, knew it was training and seemed to delight in the fact. Revel in the moment that she'd missed this.
They should do this again. The world came back from pinpoint focus, from the moments where she was paying attention to what was directly in front of her. "Yeah," a confirmation of her name. "Yeah," she repeated, catching her breath and beaming- all radiance, this one, "I'd like that. Do you have a phone number or something?"
A second.
"Or a name?"
Jo Hamilton
Jo grinned. She pulled back her lips to show her white teeth in the widest grin she could manage. "Ha!" She pronounced at Kiara. "Well you know, if you like waltz over here, I'll totally take a few nips. Course you'll have to share with her." She gestured her thumb at Lavinia, finally looking back at the two of them as they sparred.
"Ah man." Jo let out a huff and held the taffy over to Grace. "Next time champ! Next time!"
Grace
[I think I'm just going to have Grace pass out on the grass, because I need to pass out XD]
Jo Hamilton
[this is a solid... because I'm with you there]
Ian
[Thanks for playing guys! I have to take off soon too. Have a good night!]
Grace
[X_X]
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)