What happens next?

Kiara
Kiara Woolfe's apartment complex has not changed much since the last time Grace had cause to come calling on the Witch. There may come a time when the reason why she does has nothing to do with danger, or the near-constant peril their lives seem to toss callously their way.

Today would not be that time. Not yet, at least.

-

The elevator ride up to the fourth floor still delivers on its quiet classical music, streaming from tiny speakers overhead. It must seem a particularly surreal touch for the pagan, returning from some of the events and places she does, to step, exhausted, into the lift and rest her head against the wall, only to be serenaded by Mozart's Piano Concerto 23.

Or, maybe, there's a reassurance to something so normal. Those hints of regular human banality. Gum stuck to the wedge of the door, a forgotten coffee cup left, empty, on the floor where it had since rolled over onto its side, music tiding over the short journey for residents from the ground floor to Kiara's. The hallway still presents its rich carpeting and row of sturdy doors.

The Verbena's hasn't been left open but considering what they've all been dealing with - perhaps that won't come as a shock to Grace.

-

Kiara doesn't keep her waiting long, when she knocks. There's a deadlock turned and the rattle of a chain before the brunette's face appears and she waves her inside. She's still wearing the hospital scrubs on her lower half, but the longer sleeved shirt has been replaced with a white tank top, it thrown over the back of the Verbena's sofa.

The curtains are still drawn inside and the apartment carried the faint traces of incense and coffee; the latter in the process of being ground.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet here, I think if I had to spend much longer in these scrubs, I was going to go crazy." She makes a beeline for the kitchen and unearths a cup. "Coffee?"

Grace
Kiara's apartment hasn't been the most auspicious of places, in Grace's memory. She brought Mike here, and watched him lose himself to a murderess. She sat by Samir's side as he told her about all the things he could hear and she could not. How he was afraid he would stay in his own world forever.

It's a place of bad memories. Maybe she should bother to change that? It doesn't seem as though this visit will be nearly as... fraught. She is, after all, a returning hero at this point. The damage, whatever it was, has been done.

The door swings open, and Kiara says her thanks. "No problem. I guess uh... everything went well?" she asks, steps into the place and shuts the door behind her.

"I'd love some coffee."

Of course she would. Mercurial. Elite.

Kiara
Whatever conversation the two women had over the phone had likely been fairly perfunctory. Yes, they were alive. Yes, they had Alexander. Could Grace meet Kiara at her apartment at x hour? And then - a disconnection after a brief farewell. There had been traces of tension in the Verbena's voice then but there seemed far less of it now - at least, on the surface.

Kiara's hands were sure and steady as they poured out two cups of coffee and she moved around the counter to pass on over to Grace, meeting her eyes with a brief cant of a smile edging into the corner of her mouth.

Her coffee up was long and narrow and the sides were decorated with black cats - Kiara's personal sense of humor, no doubt. "Well as in we didn't have to engage anyone in hostile negotiations, definitely." There's a moment, Kiara's hands hug the contours of her cup (her own was a pale blue), where she seems to dip into that same sense of tension Grace had heard on the phone.

"Andrés - Dr Sepúlveda," she corrects, perhaps for Grace's clarity, perhaps for her own remembrance of the man's title, "cloaked a van so it resembled an ambulance. I changed my appearance and we got in past security without too much trouble. It was - " the Verbena's brows constrict, her expression one of distaste. " - incredibly bizarre to be there, surrounded by them. They had Alexander where you said he was." A flash of something warmer, then. Kiara's smile suggestive of gratitude. "And a body bag ready for us."

She breathes out sharply.

Straightens.

"They had us wheel him out of there as a corpse. Alexander was so dosed up though, he won't remember any of that. We got him to a motel room out on the outskirts Sera gave me the keys for. As far as we can tell, he's clean. No bugs, but they did fix up his knee. I left the Doc out there studying his blood." Another pause. "He finally woke up a little while ago, which is why I wanted to meet with you. Alex wants - well, a change of clothes for one thing but - he wants to know what happens to him now.

I told him I'd bring you and the others out there. So we can - " She trails off, the brunette, her eyes full of compassion for their mutual's friend plight. So they could, what? Decide how much of Alexander's life was now denied to him?

Grace
Grace leans against the wall next to the door, eyebrows rumpled together at certain points. A body bag. He wants to know what happens. The doc is studying his blood.

She takes her cup of coffee (black, bleh) and sniffs it. "Clothes. Yeah. I could do that," she says. Not well, but she could do it.

"I wish I could have been more help. They owned me, Kiara. I was only inside for a few minutes before I was spotted and backtracked, and that with a timer already going on my connection. About the only useful thing I managed to get was the confirmation that he was alive and well. I guess that's something, eh?"

Something. And it cost her a great deal, that something.

"What happens to him now should be up to him, I think. He's the one who has to shoulder the danger," she says, after a sip of coffee. "I could offer him a new identity, but the safest way to pull that off is if he moves elsewhere. He'll still be known to them, by face if nothing else."

Kiara
"They could have owned us too, at any point. We just got lucky." She counters, with a brief touch of a hand to Grace's shoulder as she moves past her to turn on one of the low lamps by her sofa; illuminating the room in a soft, warm glow. "The security in there was, not that I ever want to give them credit for a damn thing, pretty impressive.

Even Andrés was nearly stumped once." There's a tiny twitch of Kiara's mouth at that revelation, as she settles down on the arm of the sofa. "I agree that Alexander's life is his to decide on. I told him right now his job and apartment probably aren't the safest places for him to be but - it feels almost as cruel to take everything from him just because they decided he was their toy to mess with."

She rubs the tips of her fingers over her brow, tenders dark strands back behind an ear. For all that she seemed capable of discussing what had happened and wore no obvious signs of the rescue mission - there were dark smudges beneath the Verbena's eyes, a certain paleness to her face that spoke of subtle physical reminders (Paradox).

One could only imagine changing physical features wasn't the easiest feat to manage without drawing significant repercussions.

"But - he's a fighter." She doesn't mention the way the Orphan had clung to her, hugging her tightly before she left. Somehow, it didn't feel right to disclose the moment to anyone. "I think he's going to be okay. He changed, while he was there. You'll feel it when you see him. He's gotten stronger." A touch of a smile graces her lips. "The universe works in strange ways, right?"

A beat, Kiara seems to consider Grace a little closer. Dark eyes ticking over her face. "Are you okay, though? I know what we went through but being on the other side can't have been easy. I know you've known Alexander a while."

Grace
"That's what they do. Take everything because they decide to, I mean. Cruelty on our part has nothing to do with that. It's all on them," she says, listens, sips her coffee. He went Seeking? In there? Incredulous eyes, because damn, but the man can find the time and place for that sort of thing, can't he?

"Well, fuck," she says, scratches an eyebrow. "I'm okay. Certainly not the worst off of us, man."

The coffee's getting cool enough to actually chug, so she does, even though it's bitter. Her eyes pop open afterwards.

"Kalen, he took it hard. Of course. He's closer to Alex than I am, by far."

Hell, Alex might not even like her that much...

Kiara
The Verbana doesn't comment when the Virtual Adept attests that she's fine, that she wasn't the worst off of all of them. But after a moment, there's this gleam of amusement that presents itself into the Verbena's dark eyes, she drops her gaze consideringly to the floor.

"I actually think Andrés may have it the worst. At least, for the moment. He's suffering from a small case of continuing nudity courtesy of his disguise disintegrating after we got Alexander out. Some sort of Union fail-safe, no doubt." A beat, Kiara's eyes return to Grace's face. Her expression sobers a little. "I think seeing you will help. I don't know how much he remembers but from what I've heard second hand about their conditioning process - " There's a grimace.

"He's probably going to need all the familiar faces we can muster."

Kiara drinks the last dregs of her coffee and sets it aside after a pause, as if she were contemplating adding something else, after the mention of familiar faces. Whatever it is and whatever the flicker was that darts across her expression, it passes quickly. She pushes herself to her feet. "I'll change my pants and then we can find Alexander some clothes and go see him - " A brief pause.

"If you're ready."

Grace
Grace blinks. Nudity? "Nudity? What... The Techs did that to him? Why?" As if anybody would want to see him naked... "They just don't strike me as the prank-playing kind, Kiara."

But hey, maybe some of them are classified as human. Had to, obviously, because they got help from the inside.

"I'll help him out. Whatever I can do. If he wants to see my familiar face, he'll get it." If he doesn't, he doesn't.

"Let's go," she says, rights herself from the wall, and drains the last of coffee in four large gulps.