Starbucks is 'The Man', Don't You Get It?

Lena Reilly
Lena likes coffee.

Okay, that's an understatement.  Lena lives for coffee.  I'm serious.  Have you ever seen her without some kind of caffeinated drink in her hand?  Probably not.  It doesn't happen, pretty much ever unless she's set it down and it's within reaching distance.  If you ever wanna see someone go from zero to "ragingly pissy" in nothing flat, take the girl's caffeine away for a day or so.  It's not a pretty sight.

And thus, we have her sitting outside a Starbucks downtown, her laptop open while a quad venti latte sits half-finished next to an empty double macchiato.  She's got one headphone in her ear and the other one faintly thrums with an electronic beat as she works, looking over her mixing program and trying to figure out just the right beat.

Of course, she is aware still.  The girl has some level of situational awareness, and a larger sense of situational Awareness.  So the pretty-enough thing in a black Fall Out Boy tank top underneath the jacket, worn blue jeans and calf-high boots isn't completely oblivious even as she works.

[[Pre-emptive magedar! Spec: Uncanny Instincts]]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 7, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2

Kalen
[Nightmares]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 6, 6, 9) ( success x 3 )

Kalen
[And, do we notice Lena?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )

Kalen
Kalen also likes coffee.  He'd prefer not Starbucks coffee, perhaps, but he has learned to take what he can get.  And there have been times when he didn't have access to ridiculous imported espresso.  He knows how to make do.  This is, still, at least a step up from the sludge languishing in convenience store pots left on burners.

And so, into the Starbucks he goes.  He pauses for a second and scans the place slowly.  Once he spots her, Lena gets a wave, and then he proceeds to order coffee.  He leans into the counter while he waits, fingertips tapping lightly over the head of his cane.

Garrett Franklin
Garrett is still new to Denver, though he's been here before on tour, for a day here, a weekend there.  It's not enough, though, that time here and there with little time to do more than sign books and have dinner with other academics.  So here he is, on a day off (for whatever reason a college professor might have a Tuesday off), exploring this area that's fairly close to the apartment he shares with his son.

There are Starbucks everywhere.  And, though Garrett's not particularly fond of their coffee there's something to be said for being able to get the same drink consistently no matter where one is in the world.  So while Lena is outside with her drink and her laptop, Garrett is inside ordering a chaider - which is to say hot chai in apple cider - which he then takes back out to enjoy whatever weather this new city is currently offering him.  So he steps outside and there's scholarship, and renewal, and subtlety, and stability that rolls out from him in waves.  As he's coming out, there's Kalen going in, and he stops the younger Hermetic briefly.

"Hey.  Want to sit outside?"

Because of course he takes it as a matter of course when they run into each other, when mages begin to converge.  It hasn't been a surprise to him for many years.

[Awareness!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Lena Reilly
Blame it on the (alcohol?) (uh, no.) caffeine and the music flowing through her ears, but for whatever reason Lena's on high alert at the moment.  Which means that she's been watching Garrett through the window since the moment he stepped within her senses, keeping her attention pinned more on him than on what she's doing.  New people who ping her radar are always something to be cognizant of, especially since she started spending most of her time at the Chantry and thus she's not just risking herself.  It's possible Garrett didn't notice the set of eyes on him, though he of course sensed her presence, that withering pulse that emenates from her like a chillwave beat with a touch of entropy in it.  Either way, she's been watching him from her table outside while he orders his drink.

And then she senses Kalen coming close, that double helping of a storm.  That probably doesn't help matters much, though this one is at least familiar to her.  She looks from her observation of Garrett over at him as he waves, gives a faint smile and an upward tilt of her chin before she turns to--

See that they know each other, which neither helps nor hurts her assessment of the situation.  She leans back, withdrawing a cigarette from her jacket and lighting up as she takes the earbud out and sits to observe for the moment.

Oh Lena.  This is why you don't have many friends.

Kalen
Of course Kalen agrees to sitting outside, and before long he is back out to join Garrett.  He sets his coffee down, then settles carefully into one of the patio chairs.  They are not nearly as comfortable as the chairs inside, but outside is where things are happening.  People are walking.  And that DJ is out there too, which interests Kalen at least a little.

"How are you?"  He asks Garrett, holding eye-contact long enough to ask the question before turning to give Lena a quick smile and a you-should-join-us look.  And then he returns his attention to Garrett.

Garrett Franklin
The table Garrett chooses is near enough to Lena for easy conversation but far enough for comfort as well - so Kalen's smile is easy to send and receive, as is the smile Garrett gives her in response.  He's amiable, this older gentleman, and has little trouble making new friends (most of the time.  Sid is weird, to him), or meeting new people.  He's not shy, in the slightest.

"I'm good, how about you?  Doing better?"

Better than the last time they were together, when Garrett was basically making sure Kalen remembered to do things other than lounge on the couch for half a day - and of course Garrett knows he is, but there's still tones of concerned older relative there.  Not quite fatherly, but too close to be much else.  And during this, at some point, Lena gets a smile and a nod, polite, friendly.

Lena Reilly
She's quiet for a moment as they interact, pausing to let them do so as she closes down some programs on the laptop, saves her work.  Just the pleasantries so far, she notes.  But obviously they know each other, or of each other at the very least.  And so that interests her, makes her want to know more.  She's a guarded one, this Cultist, but she's also someone who seeks to know the world around her and that only comes with perspective.

Finally she shuts the laptop down and closes it, tapping ash into a tray on the table and setting the cigarette in it.  She picks up the hyper-caffeinated drink for a swallow and then looks at the two, putting up a little smile.  She has too much stuff to move without seeming like she really, really wants to, and she's not one to concede ground that easily anyway.  So she leans over a bit and raises an eyebrow, smiling.

"Fancy running into you here, Kalen.  Are you going to introduce me, or...?"  Her attention turns toward Garrett then.

Kalen
"Yeah, I'm good now."  He smiles, warmer and slightly longer than Lena is used to seeing.  "Thanks."
And then Lena is coming over and he looks up and the smile changes into something more polite, his expression ever-so-slightly more guarded.  But the smile doesn't disappear.

"Of course," he says to Lena.  "Have a seat if you'd like.  This is Garrett Franklin, he's recently arrived to Denver to teach all the college students.  He taught me for awhile, years ago, so I know they're lucky to have him."  Is that actual affection in his tone?  It sounds like it.  "Garrett, this is Lena.  She's a DJ and I'm sure she is incredibly talented but I haven't quite managed to catch any of her sets yet."  He glances up at Lena.  "For which I do apologize.  I've been distracted."

Garrett Franklin
"Ah. the DJ you mentioned.  It's a pleasure to meet you, Lena," Garrett says as he offers a hand for shaking; it's a smooth, relatively soft hand with fingertips calloused not from guitar strings but from computer (or possibly typewriter, at some point early on) keys - if, of course, Lena takes it.  Easy talking distance means slightly awkward shaking distance, but the forty-something professor (who is dressed in jeans and a white ringer shirt with a thought bubble over the word 'oxymoron' - and inside the thought bubble the words 'social science'.

"Maybe we should go together.  If it's an all-ages show, we can invite Jacob.  Though."  This next is wry and amused, but not the bitter sort of wry - Garrett is a goofball, and in general pretty happy-go-lucky.  "If I try to tell him it's a cool, fun thing, he'll know it's the opposite, no matter what it is."  There's a pause, and then, "Jacob's my son.  He's sixteen."

Lena Reilly
She's a bit curious at this person who, more than anyone she's seen him with, Kalen seems comfortable around.  She guards herself, but it's the longing sort of guardedness of someone who wants to know more of people even if she doesn't venture close enough to the sun for her own wax wings to melt.

But then Kalen introduces them and it's a little clearer...it's someone from Kalen's past.  A mentor of sorts, and that allows her to make some assumptions that may or may not be accurate.  She regards Garrett with a friendly-enough smile that turns into a faint grin when Kalen says he hasn't managed to catch her shows because he's been distracted.

"Yeah, that's what they all say.  You'd think we're not all just layabouts or something."  The comment is tinted with humor, generally good-natured.  She nods to the the older Hermetic and reaches over to accept the handshake.  "Nice to meet you Garrett.  And yes, you should.  I do try and get at least one all-ages appearance in a weekend.  I always hated it when I would go out clubbing as a teenager and all we had was some kind of terrible pre-mixed house crap.  I'll give Kalen my schedule for the next few weeks, I'm all set up through Halloween."

She leans back so she can take a drag off the cigarette and then stubs it out before looking back.  "You're teaching at one of the schools, then?  Right on.  I kind of regret not going to college sometimes, just for the experience at least.  But what I do isn't something you get better at with classes; it's all about learning through experience."

Kalen
Kalen laughs, leaning back into the obnoxious metal patio chair and laughing.  "Don't say things like that around Garrett, it's dangerous.  The next thing you know, you will somehow be enrolled in school and learning a new language while simultaneously being roped into horizon-broadening trips around the world."  He grins.  "Okay, on second thought, do.  It's a good time."

His attention strays back to Garrett.  "I'll just tell him I'm going with you and he wouldn't like it anyway.  And then he will do that, 'fuck off, Kalen, he's my father not yours' thing that he does, and I'll yell back at him, and we'll be fine, but you'll make that frown you make when neither of us is matching your definition of civil, and then we'll all go see Lena."  The corners of his mouth keep trying not to flick up into a smile, but he can't quite manage a proper bored and disinterested tone with Garrett.  Even an affected one just for show.

Garrett Franklin
"That . . . sounds about right, actually.  When did I get so predictable, hmm?  Once upon a time, I was a wild man.  Back when I had to walk twenty miles to school, up hill both ways, barefoot.  While hiding from the dinosaurs."  Yes, he's joking.  No, he doesn't think he's old, nor is he neurotic about his age.  As far as mages go, Garrett is downright well-adjusted.

"And, while Kalen exaggerates, I am quite the advocate for higher education.  If you find yourself interested, feel free to let me know - I'll see what we can do to get you in the classes you want.  And also, new languages and trips around the world are fun, thank you very much."

It's light banter, so much amusement and pleasure just to be where he is, in the company he is.  He's a relatively simple man, all things concerned.

Lena Reilly
She chuckles a little at the banter between the two, though she shakes her head when Garrett offers to help get her in classes.  It's amicable enough and even friendly for the moment, despite the polite refusal suggested in the motion.

"I appreciate that, but no.  The only thing that I really feel like I missed out on is the college life experience, and I'm very well past that at this point.  If I ever get the desire to try out a dorm though, I'll let you know."
She sips her gaze between them a moment, her weight leaning forward on her elbows which in turn rest on her knees.  "So have you made the rounds of meeting people yet?"

Kalen
"In the snow," Kalen leans in and mutters to Garrett, just loudly enough for Lena to hear.  "On account of it still being the ice ages or something."  He settles back again after that to let Garrett answer Lena.

He watches them both a little, and the people passing by them on the street, and the cars and the...well, Kalen watches everything.  Even right now, when he's as relaxed as Lena has ever seen him and he's playing with Garrett.  Even a passing helicopter gets a quick evaluation glance.  Even so, he's still drinking his coffee, and there is still a slight lingering smile, so whatever else he may be doing, he does seem to be happy enough here.

Garrett Franklin
"Right, right, how could I forget the snow!"  It's overblown dramatics, of course, and an interesting thing about his face is that it's nearly rubber-like in the expressions it makes.  Also, when he's playing like this, it's impossible to catch him blinking.

So there's Lena asking about who he's met, or rather if he's met anyone, and Garrett thinks for a moment before saying, "Not anyone with full introductions or anything.  But I met Sid, briefly, and Trent, but that's it.  I haven't been out and about that much, yet - between getting settled in at the new university and getting my son settled into his new school and dealing with his acting out, I haven't been out and about that much.  So you're one of the first few, and already I think this meeting is going better than that other one."  And Garrett was no less congenial then than he is now - he'd just been presented with something curious, then, a case study of sorts, and hadn't been able to resist the impulse to learn more.  Now, as far as he can tell, everything is on the table.

Lena Reilly
She smiles when Garrett mentions Sid; the fondness there is obvious from the Ecstatic.  Trent gets vague recognition but nothing more than that; she's heard about him in association with the business with the film, and she knows his Tradition, but hasn't learned much eyong that.

"I get that," she says with a nod.  "When I first got here I largely kept to myself while I settled in, and that was only partly because I'd not met anyone yet.  Even after I met Sid I kept myself to the sidelines for..."  She purses her lips, and then shrugs and smiles.  "Well, far too long actually.  I've only in the last month or so gotten around to getting involved."

A quick glance goes to Kalen then.  He was there when she spoke with Shoshannah about becoming more invested in the mages of Denver, after all.  It's a brief look at best; she's still not in any way sure about the younger Hermetic for reasons that are kept entirely her own.  And then she's got her gaze back on Garrett.  "So yeah, it's still a work in progress for me."

Kalen
"Well, I can introduce you to Grace, but other than than that about everyone here you've already met or I don't really know or they don't like me."  He huffs a little, smile melting into a smirk.  "Imagine that."

A real smile comes back though, when he looks back at Garrett instead of at everything in the world in general.  "I bet they like you better if I don't introduce you though.  Guilt by association and all."  If people not being into hanging out with him actually bothers him, there is certainly no indication.  "I was always a results person more than anything.  And with what we do, or at least what I do...c'est la vie...."  He shrugs.

Patience Mason
[Per+Aware]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 6, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Patience Mason
[Drive]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (3, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Garrett Franklin
"They'd like you better if you weren't so intent on remaining aggressively closed off, I bet," Garrett returns, and it's in those same nearly paternal tones with which he'd asked if Kalen was doing better; there's concern, and care, and more than that.  However these two met, it's pretty obvious that they know each other quite well now.

"But really, everything's a work in progress.  If there was nothing new to learn and no knowledge or understanding to refine, what would be the point?"

Lena Reilly
Kalen's comment about people not liking him draws a quick look, but she leaves it there because he's good-natured about it.  Lena's one of those people who are on the fence of course, but on the fence is different than 'don't like.'  And more to the point, Kalen gives a little explanation that, if not much into it, at least gives her a little insight.  She understands 'results person.'  Some people just aren't the most open and she gets that.

And then, Garrett accuses those people who don't like Kalen of remaining aggressively closed off and that draws a raised eyebrow and a stifled chuckle.  "I'm sorry," she says, and she seems to mean it.  "I'm honestly not trying to start an argument here.  But at least to my knowledge, the people who are...not entirely sure about Kalen or have issues with him do so because..."

She looks to Kalen now, because she doesn't want to talk about him like he's not there.  "Well, because you're rather aggressively closed off yourself.  Which I'm not judging, really.  We all have our reasons.  I'm just pointing it out because--well, I don't even know, maybe someone's said it.  But if not, at some point it's gotta be said."

Patience Mason
Starbucks was about as mundane as one could get, with its unified branding image, its beverages which changed in quality only because of the skill of the barista making it. One would think that such place would be anathema to the awakened mind.

Wether this was true or not was a moot issue as several magi stood just beyond the realm of coffee and treats enjoying the warm desert air. Patience for her part rarely went to such coffee houses, be it out of preference or simple convenience it didn't matter. But passing by such places? Well that was all but impossible to avoid. The Etherite's presence is first telegraphed by the complex whine and rumble of an engine. The machine which she rode was much like its rider, it seemed to have been made for another time, for an era now long past or not yet upon us.

Long and sleek the motorcycle which came into view spoke of an art deco ascetic with a paint job of deepest blue and trimmed with chrome, the seat was wide and comfortable, made of a well worn leather that spoke of continual, and loving use. The rider herself wore riding leathers, a pair of knee high leather boots with a solid heel, and a leather jacket reminiscent of an old barnstormer's jacket.

She cut through traffic quickly, efficiently, and as she did so the tingle of the awakened presence drew those ocean blue eyes to the small group next to the starbucks. She didn't even cut the throttle as she cut through a perfectly sized space of traffic void, and into the outer lane, the bike sliding into nearest parking space in the similarly smooth motion. That done, the engine fell into silence as Patience cut the power and leaned back in the seat, her eye's falling on the others as a small, polite smile crossed her lips.

Lena Reilly
[[Delete everything out of that post after the first paragraph.  I hate the font size of the chat and didn't read the post right.]]

Kalen
[[Well.  It's not like I haven't done that already today.  :)]]

Kalen
"Garrett," Kalen says, and his voice is gentle, but there is just a hint of a warning in it.  "You know what I used to do.  It's not just me.  I don't make anything easy, but even if I'd come rolling into this town with another face I think we'd still be here.  Or close enough to here.  And what woul-"

He breaks into a sudden, grin when he sees Patience, the warning note completely vanishing from his tone and his eyes losing that slightly narrowed look.  "Hey, Firefly.  How've you been?"

Garrett Franklin
"Kalen," Garrett says, and there's no warning there but there is a raised eyebrow; he's fatherly and easy-going 98.75% of the time (unless you ask his actual son, in which case you'd get an entirely different assessment), though there are a few things that will get that step back and raised eyebrow.

He is Hermetic, after all.  And Quaesitor, at that.

But it's all let go with the new arrival, who gets a smile as friendly and open as the one Garrett gave Lena upon their meeting, which is only different from the smile Kalen gets in that it's not so familiar, bordering on intimate.  "Hello, Miss."

Lena Reilly
Patience MasonShe's quiet for that moment, as she seems to get a brief inside into Kalen and it intrigues her.  The question of what he used to do, Garrett's raised brow...it's all pieces of the puzzle that Lena can't help but start to try to put together, sizing and comparing with the other jagged pieces she has to see what fits where and what image is starting to emerge.  She's a discerning sort, similar to Garrett albeit perhaps a bit less direct.

But those pieces are thrown back into the shadows and she just gets a glimpse before Patience shows up, and hyper-aware (at the moment) Lena snaps her attention over to that woman with a sudden, enthusiastic smile.  The Ecstatic quite likes the strange woman, this much is clear, and she rises as Patience walks over with a warm expression.

"Hey, you.  It's nice to see you.  You're looking good.  How're you doing?"

Patience Mason
The helmet Patience wore was old and made of a flexible leather with expanded pockets around the ears. In normal circumstances one might wonder how the hell someone would be crazy enough to wear such flimsy protection while riding a motorcycle, but Patience was of the Son's of Ether, and that could mean her helmet might well take a tank shell before giving...one never does know.

She'd managed to draw her helmet from her head as they began their greetings, her dirty blonde hair falling about her face in a messy mane of helmet hair, no victory rolls toda. [it just wouldnt fit, no matter how much bigger on the inside she made that helmet]. She slid one leather bound leg over the side of the motorcycle and rose to her full height, made slightly higher by the extra bit of heel on her boots.

"Appropriately sociological and intro-cultural affirmation's and verbalized activation's to your individualized personages." She said casually with a wave of a leather glove before she moved to pull it free with her other hand. This freed appendage is held out to Garett, the singular new face in the group whom Patience had yet to meet, and the polite smile became a little warmer, her eyes open in interest as she took in this new factor in her existence.

"My parentologically assigned index assisted by heritological factor's is Patience Mason, this is a direct acknowledgement of your ratification and indexing as an individualized personage within the concurrent temporo-reality stream as actualized by my noospheric field." She said warmly, apparently pleased.

She then turned her gaze to Kalen with a nod, if perhaps a quizzical look upon her features as she replied. "The negatively aligned temporal framework within the active stream has been nominally utilized and existed within Kalen." She said pleasantly, before the confusion returned and she inquired. "Please extrapolate and identify the use of the laymen index for Insecta Coleoptera Lampyridae." She looks over her shoulder as if to examine her back before looking at Kalen once more. "The gluteus maximus of this biological structure has not initiated a chemical reaction with which to produce sufficient lumen's with which to attract appropriate nutrient items or replicative co-organisms."

She looks at Lena and returns that warm expression before inquiring. "Lena, this bio-physical structure continues to operate and facilitate actuality of the noospheric field within nominal ranges given for known frotean anomalies, however at this particular temporal juncture would you assist in deriving the meaning of Kalen's verbalized statement?" She asks, tilting her head back to Kalen curiously.

Kalen
And Kalen, who spends most of his time trying so very hard not to look like he care about things pays real attention to Patience.  He has to, after all.  It pulls some of his focus off of evaluating everything around them for threats, but that seems to make him calmer instead of more anxious.

His head tilts a little and he can't help but smile when Patience is so baffled by her new nickname and then she speaks in all the puzzles and it may be the best thing that has happened to him all day.  "Because you have that glow," Kalen says to Patience.  "And because I find your presence is something I'm fond of.  So you get another Name from me.  I'm sorry if it confuses you."

Garrett Franklin
"My parentologically assigned index assisted by heritological factors is Garrett Franklin.  It's a pleasure to drift into your noospheric field, Miss Mason."  This is given easily as Garrett rises to shake Patience's hand; he's considerably older than his companions, Garrett is, clearly in his 40s as he is.

"Kalen Names people - usually only people he likes.  Consider yourself fortunate, Miss Mason."  And he says it genuinely; he clearly holds the younger man in high esteem.  As he's saying this, he's adjusting chairs so Patience can join them if she so desires - it's polite and gentlemanly, as Garrett tends to be.

Lena Reilly
She was ready to answer if neither Kalen nor Garrett did, but they both contribute in a way that should give the agestuck woman a satisfactory answer.  And so she settles back down, taking out another cigarette.  She really, really shouldn't smoke but you have to allow her a few vices; so many others have been cut out throughout the years, except in special situations or emergencies.

"Oh, you only get nicknames if Kalen likes you?  Explains why I'm still Lena, I guess."  She says it with a little grin, no serious hurt behind it.  Patience's presence is like that of Sid's or Shoshannah's; it relaxes Lena.  Those three are like her version of Kalen's Garrett, basically.  She lights up and leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.

Patience Mason
Kalen offers his own answer to her inquiry, and then to her delight she receives collaborative information from Garrett and Lena, which only verified the initial statement and the etherite gave out a gentle chuckle as she nodded. She watched as Garrett made space and she nodded her thanks, but turned her gaze towards the coffee shop with obvious interest.

"Such factor's and data were within the established internalized thesis. However extrapolative interrogation and collative acumen was necessary to come to a suitable conclusive reading beyond 80.531 percent." She turned bodily towards the shop then and stepped towards it, a finger raised to the door as she said.

"Allow several temporal units to pass until the re-materialization of my bio-physical structure, at this temporal juncture complex carbohydrates are a suitable nutrient derivative to augment and fuel this bio-structure." She said, stepping past them all and into the store.

[Sorry guys, lifes getting in the way and imma put Patience in limbo [starbucks] until i can come back, which hopefully wont be to horribly long. :( ]

Kalen
"I also have to know something about you.  So there is that," he says to Lena.  "Sometimes I just don't know."  It's hard to tell if that is an offer of general supplemental information or pointed supplemental information.

He nods to Patience.  "Of course."

Garrett Franklin
And there's Garrett's phone giving off the TARDIS vworp sound - he pulls it out, checks it, sighs.  "My son," he says, giving attention back to his companions just in time to give Patience a little wave as she goes in to get her drink.  "Apparently, we have no food in the house and I have to go pick up the Chinese he ordered.  "it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reilly - I'm sure we'll see each other again soon.  "Come over if you're hungry, Kalen.  Jacob always orders too much."

And with that, Garrett's up and heading out, giving polite nods, waves, and the like.

Lena Reilly
"Ahh," she says to Kalen, nodding a little with a faint smile.  "Well, any time you wanna quid pro quo, feel free."

It's a friendly enough statement, but a pointed one too.  If he's not going to trust them with details about his life, she's not willing to do the same.  Trust engenders trust.

Kalen
"Some other time," he says to Lena.  "And, perhaps more notably, some other place.  It was good to see you."  He rises and heads off with a small smile and a wave.

Lena Reilly
She watches Kalen head off for a moment, then smiles and shakes her head slightly.  Some other time, he says.  She rather doubts that.  She knows people with walls and she knows delaying tactics.
Still, he may surprise her.  You never know.

Kalen gone, she looks back to her laptop and flips it back open, opening up her email to look over her latest samples for remixes as sent by fellow DJs while she takes a drag of her cigarette.

Patience Mason
Patience took a while, it was easily a good fifteen minutes before she returned from her adventure into the Starbucks, and when she returns she seems slightly flustered, her lips are drawn slightly downward as she approached the table and found it to be largely empty. This admittedly surprises her, and as she approaches the table with a small coffee cup in hand she inclines her head and asks.

"What relativistic abberation in the socio-cultural allignment and dissertation actualized and imparted the departure and movation of the individuals indexed as Kalen and Garett?" She inquires, seating herself in the chair that Garett had pulled out for her and looked about curiously.

Lena Reilly
She looks up from the computer screen, chin resting on her propped-up hand, and smiles to Patience when she comes over, babbling in that way that isn't babble at all.  Lena, for whatever reason, finds herself surpremely comfortable around the other and when she asks her question there's the usual focused look as she translates in her head, gets the meaning of what Patience is saying.

She's got it figured out (like she often does) by the time the unaging Etherite finishes speaking.  "Oh, Garrett had something come up involving his kid, and Kalen..."

She sighs, looking over her shoulder as if she could spy Kalen leaving, even though he's been gone for a few minutes now.

"Kalen was being Kalen.  There is something seriously not right about that boy."

That boy, saiid the twenty-four year-old.  But Lena's lived enough for more than a couple lifetimes, and when you're on borrowed time everyone seems young.

Patience Mason
Lena was aged and wise by dint of experience, and Patience...well Patience existed within an entirely different scale of age and time. You very rarely come across the like of her, even in the community of magi as it was. Regardless of this Lena calls Kalen a boy, and Patience smiles, a gentle laugh escaping her lips as she responds in her way.

"Every individualized personage that I has ever been actualized and indexed by my noospheric field would by temporal relativistic framework be classified as a pre-pubescent youth." She held her cup in her hands for a few moments before setting it on the table and reclining in the metal chair, crossing her leather bound legs gracefully and taking in the area about them as she undid her coat, pulling on the big brass buttons to let some air in.

"Thus far I have encountered little aberrant or negatively aligned socio-noospheric defects or idiosyncrasies in the aforementioned personage, would you be willing and capable of divulging and extrapolating upon your verbal dissemination Lena?" She inquires, ever curious despite her age.

Grace Evans
[Awareness! I need a reason for Grace to appear in a Starbucks!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (5, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Lena Reilly
Patience's observation that they're all old compared to her draws a bit of a grin and a chuckle, before she leans back and presses Send on an email.  The Ecstatic finds amusement there, and she nods to concede the point.

"In this life, sure.  That all gets fuzzy when we go beyond that....but I'll give you that one."

She sighs a little bit and puts the smoke back between her lips, drawing the carcinogenic smoke deep into her lungs and exhaling it through her nose as she considers Patience's question about Kalen.  There's a moment where she hesitates, like she doesn't know how much she wants to say.  There's risk in revealing things like this because it tells people about who you are, something the Ecstatic has largely avoided.  But she gives in to the question and shrugs, ashing into the tray at her table.

"I don't..."  A pause as she aborts that line of thought, and then she starts again.  "Kalen is someone who holds onto who he is very tightly.  And I'm not talking about who he was.  I don't mean stories of his past, though there's that too...I don't mind that.  But he is very, very careful about not giving a shit about anything."
She gives a light shrug, taking another drag of smoke.  "I have problems trusting people like that.  And I don't like the way he treats one of my friends, either."

Grace Evans
Grace is not here for coffee. It is a Starbucks. This kind of place sucks the soul out of you, she thinks. As Gadfly would say it, this is how they get you -- the preservatives.

And the network of coffee shops so thick there's one on every corner. How convenient. How unnerving. It's a symbol, yes? And not of the mermaid with a split tail variety, but one of hegemony. Like how that mermaid became less and less female, less and less subversive as the brand took shape to conquer the world in caffeinated capital.

No, Grace is on her bike, on her way home from somewhere else when she feels it. Lena comes through first, that rhythmic wilted something, followed by another, less familiar presence. And, well, there they were, right? The two sitting there, one she recognizes as Patience (but the name "Robot-Voice-Woman" admittedly comes to mind first) and then Lena, and it would be rude not to stop, right?

Even though this is the Coffeeshop of the Beast. Ugh.

She walks her bike up to the outdoor tables, and lays it against the wall of the building. "Hey guys! Girls! Whatever... Ah, what's up?"

Patience Mason
Patience listens to Lena's words as she pulls the lid off the top of her coffee cup and gives it a sniff, her nose wrinkles a little with each intake of air, and then in the end those full lips turn downward a little. But instead of going into the store to grab some sugar or milk, maybe some of that artificial sweetener [heaven forfend] she reaches into her pocket and pulls out what might look like an elaborate wand, made of a machined metal and furnished with lacquered wood the thing is finely crafted and about an inch thick and five inches long. She nods as Lena spoke and once again frowned slightly when Lena spoke of the way he treated someone.

"Further extrapolation would exemplify and articulate this intrinsic defect within his socio-noospheric reflection. As this individual has yet to actualize any negative data utilizing all available relativistic sensory input. His nominal demeanour has been that of the standardized status of pleasant, attentive and interested." She stated in a 'please do go on' sort of tone as she pointed the wand into the cup, placing the tip as close to the black substance as she dared.

"Activating meta-scientific apparati, please be actual." She said as she rotated a tiny silver ring near her finger, and a solid beam of light could be seen stabbing into the drink, and she made to stir it as if the wand were a stir stick.

It was at this point she looked up and nodded to Grace as she arrived, a friendly look upon her features as she stated.

"At this temporal juncture Lena is verbally disseminating fact's and data points relevent to the personage indexed as Kalen, in addition I am concurrently utilizing this device to isolate, and neutralize all undesirable and non nutrient baring deviant molecules."

[Arete]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (1, 9) ( success x 1 )

Patience Mason
[Extend for funs]
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (1, 8) ( success x 1 )

Lena Reilly
Starbucks may be the Coffeeshop of the Beast, but it's still a source of caffeine.  In Lena's eyes, that makes the chain a necessary evil in the world.  After all, you can only do so many energy drinks in order to get her favored drug of choice and it offers a place to sit down and work...and the Ecstatic doesn't worry too terribly much about her mixes getting spied on by the Technocracy.

She looks up, noting Grace before she gets close due to her hyper-awareness at the moment.  The deejay gives a bright smile and waves as Grace walks her bike up.  "Hey, you.  Fancy seeing you here.  How's it going?"

She smiles a little bit when Patience explains (in her own inimitable way) what exactly is up.  The use of the Effect pings off of the Ecstatic's consciousness and she looks at the little beam of light in the cup curiously.  "Wow...interesting."  They all have their different ways of doing what they do, and Lena finds some interest in seeing how Patience works her magic.

"What Patience said," Lena says to Grace, and then stubs out her cigarette and gestures to a chair at the table.  "How about you?  Everything going well?"

She glances back at the unaging woman then and gives a light shrug.  "He's not a bad guy, I don't think.  He just...has one of those personalities that I react poorly to.  I'll get over it, he'll relax a little bit or we'll get into a shouting match that blows off a ton of steam.  I don't dislike him, I just..."

She shrugs.  "It's my issues as much as it is his, I suppose."

Grace Evans
Grace kind of does a 'woo' look at Patience's stabby light wand thingy. "Well, I would't want to be a nondesirable deviant molecule right now, I am thinking."

"Hmm, and why are we gossiping about Kalen?" she asks, swinging a chair out like she was already invited to do so. Listens, as Lena goes and talks about the guy, and then goes a bit silent. Digs a bit into the table with her fingernail. Looks over Patience's wand again, you know... not really there.

'Cause Kalen's a friend. And that's a bit uncomfortable. What to say?

"He's a bit standoffish at first, I know..."

Patience Mason
"As previously disseminated, I as an individualized personage have encountered no such negative behavioural cue's or attributes, however It is through thorough understanding of an individual through multiple test groups and data quotients that one is able to ascertain a more efficient psychological and sociological profile of the afformentioned individual." She shrugs, as if she meant nothing by it.

She finished working her magic on the coffee and tucked the wand/laser away as she took a moment to sniff the coffee once more. It was then that she smiled and picked it up, taking a careful sip of the drink as she considered the others, Grace in particular in this moment.

"What data are you able to contribute to ascertain and actualize a more thorough and effective profile?"

Lena Reilly
She looks a little apologetic at Grace when she seems uncomfortable with the topic.  The last thing she wants is to put people in a difficult position and Grace's reaction, her question and comment suggest that going further down this road of conversation will put her in that very spot.  So she shakes her hand and then smiles.

"We weren't, really.  Kalen was here and left, Patience picked up on my wierdness about him and asked about why I felt that way.  I was just explaining my own personal thoughts and reactions to him, not anything about him or anyone else."  She smiles, very faintly.  "It's fine, like I said, it's a me thing.  I have trust issues that he spikes up.  Not much more than that."

Then Patience asks Grace what she knows about Kalen that may help her form a more detailed picture, and she shakes her head.  "Probably best to change the topic.  I don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable."  A sigh, and she smiles.  "What's new with you guys?"

Grace Evans
Grace glances over at Lena, and the first thing she wants to say, she doesn't. Kalen's teaching her how to shoot, and that's new, right?

"I... ah... not much I can say really," she responds in code. They're outside in public, after all. Going on about business wouldn't be right. "But you know, schoolwork. I'm definitely busy."

Patience Mason
The topic derails, it seems discussing Kalen was no longer a viable topic, and Patience sits there for a few moments finding the knowledge she had gleened to be considerably less then she had hoped. She taps a finger against the side of her coffee cup and quirks a lip contemplatively before she looks towards Lena and offers a casual shrug, a sure sign that not a whole lot was up.

"I have been utilizing available temporal units to process, plan, manufacture and maintain the Aurora." She says, a small smile creeping up onto her lips. "Projections based upon the current rate of raw materiel acquisition and the available temporal units to this individualized personage indiciate an estimated ten solar rotations before the Aurora is ready for movation beyond the immediate geographical locality of the landmass I have acquired propertiorial rights too."

She looks over at Grace then and inquires. "Have you ascertained any further forward movation within your chosen and active thesis?"

Serafi­ne
Perception + Awareness
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 2

Serafi­ne
So it is eightish on a Tuesday night and that means Sera has been up for maaaaybe four or five hours.  So, noonish for her.  That means it is legal to start drinking, though she may well have started when she woke up.  A bit of whiskey mixed into her Darjeeling while she eased her way out of an acid hangover and waited for Dan to descend and cook her some French toast with that loaf of brioche Dee brought home from the bakery.  They don't get good bakery stuff on the weekends these days because Dee's always traveling right now for Derby playoffs and Derby matches and Derby things, and it is a good thing they have only been sort-of working lately, or they might actually be gigging on the weekends, instead of just spottily during the week.

--

But, eightish.  Well past twilight now though there is a glimmer of sunlight against the spread of the western mountains, visible in places where the downtown core cuts away, at intersections, in parks, giving a straight shot over the low-rise sprawl to, yeah, those fucking mountains.  Two people outside with their arms flung around each other, and they both look way cooler than you ever thought you could.  Dan's wearing skinny black denim and a t-shirt from their old band and a beanie over his blond hair and a black hoodie, unzipped, the cuffs shoved up his forearms to reveal his tattoos.  He is tall, well over six feet, and he has an arm slung over Sera's shoulders.

Sera is wearing a short red cocktail dress with spaghetti straps over black thigh-high tights that have that torn-to-pieces look because it is awesome.  Instead of spike heels, combat boots.  They have a bit of a platform, maybe two extra inches, but nowhere close to her usual magickal five or six extra inches.  They are out walking, see.  She has her arm around his waist and her hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans and they're talking about something, sharing the intimate laughter of old friends along with a silver flask and you may think they are just passing by but,

you would be wrong.  Sera felt them all from a half-fucking-mile away.

He holds the Starbucks door open and she slips under his arm and in they come.  Headed in a pretty direct line past the counter toward the three other mages.

Lena Reilly
[[They're outside. =) ]]

Serafi­ne
(delete last line!)

Lena Reilly
The conversation tapers off without Kalen to talk about, and that just makes Lena feel a bit more uncomfortable.  She listens to the two women's responses--Grace has school, Patience has been working on that project which is rather crucially important to her.  Lena is an Ecstatic and as such has an innate sense of time; still, she has to do a little thinking to connect ten solar rotations to the right period of time.
"Oh, cool.  Is that...more or less time that you had initially thought?"

She goes a little quiet after that, letting the Etherite and Virtual Adept talk about their schooling.  It's a topic that Lena had broached in regard to herself with others before either of them had arrived; she never attended school herself, but kind of wishes she'd had the college life experience.  Outside of that, she doesn't regret not going.

And then her attention shifts as she notes Sera's presence.  As hyper-aware as the red dress-wearing Ecstatic is, the jeans/tank top/jacket-wearing one is equally so and they sense each other right away.  So she's looking down the street as Sera and the guy she's arm-in-arm with come up, already raising a hand to wave well before most would note someone recognizable.  She waits quietly for her Traditionmate to arrive, offering both her and Dan nods.

"Hey, you.  And hi."  The first to Sera, who she knows (if not closely yet), and the second to Dan who she hasn't yet met.

Grace Evans
"Ahh, it goes slowly, Patience. There's also classes to go to and homework to do, and..." Oh who is she kidding? The mental programming makes that fairly easy. One half of the brain focuses on class, the other half does homework, and she can read twice as fast now and still understand it. "Well, actually, it's not that. There is just a lot more going on."

A lot more sleeping, for one. Though that feels, to her, like sloth itself. To be honest, she's a bit down on herself for not making much progress in that particular area, and is making excuses.

"I have given some thought to what you said, but I still think it wouldn't work, for the same reason I had before. I'm a graduate student in computer science. At some point, someone would straight out ask where I managed to become a biologist of all things, and how I knew what to put in the sim, and therein lies the problem. I can't say. I cheat. That's all there is to it."

Grace does not feel Sera coming from a mile away, or even a half-mile. But she does feel the addition of that resonance, yes. That drawing, aching sensation. And it draws her gaze straight to the lady in red, even if she has to twist her head to do so.

Patience Mason
Patience listens to Grace as she explains her situation and Patience understands, at least in some manner she does. So she offers one little piece of advice. "Acquiring appropriate source data and expertise to assist in correlation of the afformentioned data would be considered standard practice for such thesis actualization would it not?"

She makes this offer in a round about way before looking up to Sera as she approaches, a warm smile upon her lips as she nods to the woman the man with her. "I must depart from this locality at this juncture, however Sera, it is with mathematical certainty that my noospheric field actualizes your concurrent and continued nominal status." She rose then, looking to Lena and Grace.

"Similar statements are at this juncture transferable and impressionable upon your personages as well." Smiles offered to each of them as she starts to put on that leather helmet of her's and offering her seat to either Sera or her fellow.

But then she's on her way, moving towards her art deco motorcycle just a few feet away.

[Sorry guys, gotta crash here thanks for the scene!]

Serafi­ne
Sera's the one with the flask in hand now.  She is halfway through the motion of capping it.  Or uncapping it.  One or the other, and it requires two hands so as the pair of them amble up to the outdoor table where the other magi have congregated, well, Dan has his arm around Sera's shoulders, and both her hands are occupied.  Sera tips the flask outward towards the other women, offering it around.

"Hey!"  to Lena, and

"Graaaaaacie," to Grace, reaching out to touch her somehow.  Ruffle her hair maybe, and

"Chica," to Patience, "you are the fucking limit."  With the bemused and ironic but deep affection of someone for the world's largest ball of string, or the monorail to nowhere, or or or -

--
She is not sober, Sera. It is more than booze.
--

"This is Dan,"  Grace and Dan have met, so the introduction is for Lena and Patience.  "He's Cool."
Then she looks up at Dan, just beaming.  Like she invented starlight, or at least the Irish car bomb.
"That.  Is the robot-talking lady."

Lena Reilly
Lena gives a smile and a little wiggle of the fingers when Sera introduces Dan, the expression friendly.  A friend of Sera's is a good start as far as she's concerned, doubly so if Grace knows them.  "Hey.  Nice to meet you."  She amiably waves off the offer of the flask and instead reaches out to tap the nearly-empty quad latte next to her laptop.

"I've already gotten semi-close to needing another one, hon.  And I try not to combine my vices," she says with a half-grin.  Says the girl who is always on caffeine and yet smokes.  "At least, not too terribly much."
She leans back, gesturing to the open seat vacated by Patience (and the one next to it).  "Join us.  How're things with you?  We don't hang out nearly enough, you know that?"  She's just naturally more at ease around members of her Tradition (not surprisingly, of course).

Grace Evans
Patience says, 'So, get help from a biologist,' or... well, you know. That's what it translates to, and Grace just can't imagine how that might work. Having to work so closely with someone, and having to skirt around certain issues, and lead and hint and goad them in the right direction? It could work. It could also be a total disaster.

Unless that biologist were also Awakened... hmm.

Just then, her thoughts are muddled by a 'Graaaaaaacie' and a hair ruffling, and suddenly Grace is sporting the oddest looking startle-smile. "Hey, it's Sera..."

Sera's having Fun, this much is obvious. The flask is declined, but this is done with that weird smile of discomfort mixed with impatience at that discomfort. It's like the smile is Grace's attempt to not be wigged out by that shuffling of hair.

"Yeah, sit with us!"

Serafi­ne
"I always combine my vices," Sera's laughter is rich and only mildly self mocking and her statement is clearly one thousand percent true.  She is combining vices as we speak and will pile vice on vice on vice until the world spins away from her like a pendulum gone mad and all she can do is hold on tight. "Don't I?"  Lifting her straight brows to Dan for confirmation.  He drops a kiss onto her brow.  The affection in that kiss is quite nearly fraternal.  "It's what makes life worth living.

"And I'm always around.  'Cept when I'm not, but," a flashing grin as she takes another pull from the flash.  " - our door's almost always open.  You're welcome pretty much anytime.

"We're on our way to a show, but we can hang a bit," when Lena offers seats, and Grace adds in an enthusiastic second.  "What the fuck is up with y'all?"

Lena Reilly
Lena smiles, basking a bit in the warmth of Sera's glow.  It's not a feeling that she exudes on her own and her vice-combining days are well-behind her, but she always finds some level of warm, almost reminiscent comfort in seeing it in other Ecstatics.  It's a window back into something she enjoyed, albeit before she actually Awakened.  Even before Lena was able to do magic, she was a born Cultist.

"Same old, same old really."  She runs a hand over her scalp, little finger and thumb scooping up her hair and straightening, flattening against her head to get it in order.  "I'm the dullest DJ of all time.  Mostly hanging out at the house on the weekdays and helping Shoshannah with stuff during the week, working on the weekends.  But dull isn't the worst thing in the world, as much as I might have said otherwise once."

"What about you?"  She tilts her head a little to the right, curiously.  "What show are you off to?"

Grace Evans
Truth be told, there are many things going on in Grace's life. Her plants, her sim, her new programming techniques, the business with the movie, the guns... None of it is light conversation. Some of it would be dangerous to overhear. Some of it she knows would be completely incomprehensible to Sera. So, she kind of waves her head back and forth, and her eyes dart around like she's trying to think of what to say.

"Oh, you know, stuff."

Yesss. Perfect. Stuff.

"Hey, are you going to that Halloween party? Shoshannah seems so excited about it. Well, for Shoshannah it's like, exciteorama."

Serafi­ne
Same old, same old, returns Lena.

Stufffff!  says Grace.

Sera has by now capped the flask and tucked it back into an inner pocket of her leather jacket.  She shoots this glance at Dan, and then looks back at the two of them.  "Jesus Christ, you need to come party with me sometime.  Stuff and Same old - "

She does not quantify her days and nights, though.  Does not really answer the what have you need up to questions because they can read that in her skin and her eyes, the blown pupils and the odor of whiskey on her breath and beyond that - well -

beyond that she just doesn't say.

Dan is the one who answers Lena's question about the show.  "Melissa Wyatt.  She's a singer songwriter.  I'm producing her EP."  See, some people in that household actually work.  "She's a great guitarist, and does some interesting things with rhythm and found-sound, without going off the deep end.  So, just trying to support a friend."

"I guess so?"  Sera to Grace, about the party.  A little dubiously, though.  " - I mean, it's at the house, right?"

The chantry she means.  "So it's just us?"

Lena Reilly
The DJ squints a moment in thought after Dan mentions the name.  "That...sounds familiar, I think."  Lena's in music, after all.  It's a completely different style of music of course, but we're talking about a local music community and since she arrived in Denver Lena's done a lot to get herself insinuated into the scene.  "One of the other deejays had mentioned her, I think.  That's awesome though.  If you and her want, I would love to do some a remix for the club.  Might help get her some visibility."

She nods a little bit to Sera when she asks if it'll be at the 'house.'  "Yeah, we're getting it all decorated up already, both for the party and in general.  It looks pretty amazing, Shoshannah's done some great work with it."

And then a grin.  "And I'm always down to party, to a degree anyway.  There are some limits on how far I can really get my party on anymore, I'm afraid.  But yeah, other than that, anytime."

Grace Evans
The others have their world, of gigs and music and partying (which is different, Grace thinks, than attending a party, exactly) and the apprentice thinks it sure is a shame that Patience had to leave so soon. So, if they're going to talk parties, Halloween is a better topic than the kind Sera means.

"That girl really goes all out with the deco. I like it, though," she says, and that's a rare compliment from her. Decoration is meaningless to her. Usually. Function before form and all that.

"I'm going to go. Don't know what I'm going to wear yet, but I have some ideas..."

Serafi­ne
"You should let me dress you up," Sera says to Grace.  "Or just come raid my fucking closet.  Jesus Christ, you should go as me that would be fucking awesome."

"I'll mention it to her," Dan says, with a quick grin and a faint shrug to Lena.  "I don't know how well suited her stuff is to nightclubs?  But what the hell.  It might work, you know?"  Then, to Sera, " - hey, we're gonna be late.  We need to get a move on."

Then Sera's standing, telling Lena that they'll get together soon, though one expects that Sera... has no limits.  In a way that is both brilliant and bloody frightening, at the self-same time.

Soon enough the duo are off down the street, waving a farewell as they go.

Lena Reilly
She grins a little at Dan's response.  "You'd be surprised what genres and sounds I can make sound good in a club."

And then Sera and Dan are taking off and she waves to them, saying she'll see them later before she looks to Grace.

"Whatever you dress up as, it'll be fine.  The point is dressing up.  Honoring the old ways and all that, even if its via the new ways."  She recognizes the irony of mentioning 'the old ways' to Grace, but does so anyway because...well, because she does.

Grace Evans
"Oh I like dressing up for Halloween," she says, a little weirded out by Sera's proclamation that she should 'go as her'. Oh wow. Uh. Priority interrupt.

"Maybe not, you know, like that..." she says, and coughs a little, like 'I didn't say that, really, I did not'.

"Oh, I don't mean it like that. Just, it works for Sera. Doesn't work for me." And there is the extremely uncomfortable Grace again. God, where is someone with whom to talk science or math or something...

Lena Reilly
She grins a little bit and shakes her head.  "Oh hon, don't even worry about it.  We can't all be Sera."  That grin evens out to something a bit more serious, reflecting.  "Hell, I can't even be Sera anymore.  But you just gotta be you, there's no fault in that."

And with that, they make some small talk until going their separate ways, to meet again!

Sid's Science

Sid
It was easier getting Grace to install Ginger on Sid's phone.  The Orphan was able to take that phone to wherever the Virtual Adept apprentice was and let her do her thing.  Not that Sid is a stranger to installing software or putting together hardware - she would consider herself a little low on the intermediate level of technology - but it was obvious from the day they met at Fireside that this was an area where Grace would shine.

That was then, this is now.  Now, Sid has invited Grace over to her home, a feat the newbie Mage might not realize for the sort of big-ish deal that it is.  It took crisis after crisis to get her to allow two of her closest friends inside.  So far, on the scale of weird shit that happens in Denver, Sid and Grace's involvement with crazy things has been mostly limited to that movie night.

The house itself is not that large and not that ambitious.  It sits on a small plot in a nice little neighborhood only a few blocks from the DU campus.  The front yard is a little brownish, even after all those rains, with not much by way of floral decoration.  A couple steps take one up to the front porch, which is just large enough for a bench and a small table.  The front door is painted white, that paint still solid and crisp and new from a renovation and subsequent care.  It's a nice little place, all things considered.  Whether Grace rings the doorbell or knocks on that white door, it's not long before the door swings open to reveal the tall redhead known to all of them as Sid Rhodes, Orphan of Mages, of questionable level of ability, office assistant and student at Colorado University: Denver.

"Hey," she greets, and steps back to allow Grace inside.  The living room is nice and neat and tidy - all the shared living spaces are.  There's a small closet for coats just behind Sid, a very large flat panel television on an entertainment chest, an L-shaped couch, and several bookshelves full of a wide variety of books and movies.  The colors are dark and brown and red; Sid's roommate picked them.  She, herself, is dressed in jeans and a plain grey t-shirt, her feet bare, her hair pulled to the nape of her neck.  "Shoes go there," she says, pointing to the rack for that purpose.  And then, as though she's only suddenly remembered her manners, she offers a slight smile.  "Thanks for coming.  Do you want something to drink?"  The words are softly spoken and genuine enough, but have the cadence of a memorized speech.

Grace
[Per+Awareness -- Sensing Sid?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (3, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Grace
Grace lives across the street from the DU campus, so she walks the short way to Sid's house. As she walks, she can feel the unmistakable desperate glee in the air that is Sid's signature on the world. It's not the worst experience, almost makes one appreciate Sid's presence a bit more than others, though that's not exactly fair. It's not like they get to choose.

Grace, for example, feels like the shifting of earth beneath your feet, the world suddenly lurching. It's faint, but there, if it's noticed.

The house is quaint, the kind of house Grace might go for, if she were into houses. And she climbs the stairs, knocks, waits, until Sid arrives and opens the door. Grace is wearing a jeans, sneakers, and a gray zip-up turtleneck jacket that looks exceptionally new -- rare for her. All her clothes are usually a bit rough around the edges.

She gives Sid a weird little handwave in the air as a greeting and steps inside. "Hey, Sid, look, we match!" she says, pointing at their respective outfits with a grin.

Shoes go... on a rack, apparently, and Grace sits down on the floor immediately to remove hers, if that is indeed the case No, she doesn't sit in the chair by the door, she goes and sits on the floor. Yes. Shoes thus offed, she quickly stands again, and places them on the rack.

"Oh, I'm fine! Really," she says, in response to the drink offer.

Sid
Their outfits do match, and for that Grace gets a slight widening of that smile.  It broadens and warms a little as she relaxes.  They are both a bit awkward, though there was a time when Sid was better at this whole...social thing.  Those days are in the past, though.  Grace sitting on the floor to remove her shoes gets a brief widening of dark eyes, but no words, no judgemental looks.  They all have their quirks.  If anything, Sid is very glad that that floor is kept relatively clean.  It's hard wood, though, so it's easy.  Sid doesn't offer to hug her, though despite her awkwardness it may seem like she wants to (she does).  She likes Grace, and that means she wants to hug her, but she's also almost hyperaware of the reactions and responses of others.  She knows that a hug is probably something Grace would put up with, but wouldn't enjoy.  Believe it or not, Sid cares about others' enjoyment almost more than she cares about her own.

Grace says she's fine, and Sid doesn't push her.  Instead, she offers her hands to Grace when she's gotten her shoes off.  If taken, Grace will notice that Sid's hands are warmer than most.  They feel a bit like stones heated before cheery little fire, comforting and comfortable.  If not taken, well, Grace will have to wait to find that out (unless they've held hands before, in which case Sid's narrator has forgotten).

The house on the inside is cozy and sleek.  It has the feel of a masculine owner more than a feminine, if Grace has an eye for that sort of thing.  The magazines spread haphazardly across the coffee and side tables (both matching in stain and style) are a weird mix of pop culture and science.

"My room's downstairs," she says as she turns to lead the way past a support beam and to a door on the left.  "Did you, ah, did you find the place okay?" she asks as she swings the basement door open and heads down.  The basement is more sparsely furnished than the main level.  That's because it's Sid's, all hers, hers to live in and hers to furnish, and for a long time she was broker than anyone else she knew by a long shot.  There's a rug and some bean bag chairs, a door to her bathroom and a door into her room.  She pauses at the bottom of the stairs and waits to make sure she didn't zoom off without her guest.

Grace
For all Grace is annoyed by touch, she doesn't turn down the offer of help up. There's a purpose to that, not some weird ritualistic human touchy-feely thing like handshakes. Grace's hands, in contrast, feel cold as she somewhat clumsily grabs at Sid's and helps herself up with a little "Thanks".

"I found it fine. I know the area, I just live a couple blocks from here. Strange, we live so close, huh? Well, okay, maybe not so strange, we both go to the campus nearly every day... But, you know!"

Grace dutifully follows Sid down to the basement, down to a place that looks remarkably like Grace's own sparse apartment. These two are like peas in a pod, right down to the matching outfits and nearly-matching social skills.

She closes the basement door behind her, and swings the laptop bag off her back. "So yeah... we safe to talk business now?"

Sid
"I met someone recently who said the rule for us was if we didn't want to be found, we wouldn't be."  It's only the second time she's told someone about her run-in at DMNS.  She's oddly protective of that information.  Luke didn't tell her she could spread his information around, after all.  "I don't think it's true for all of us, but.  I think it's...it's somehow both really easy to cross paths, and really easy to miss people.  Even when they're right under your nose."

Even with resonance, even with magic, even with Nephandi running around, or demon gate movies, or zombie dogs.  Sometimes people just get missed.

Grace asks if they're safe to talk business, and Sid glances past her up to the basement, then up at the ceiling.  After a moment she nods once.  "I'll get my tablet," she says, and for a moment she disappears into that bedroom, which is a little cozier than the main basement room.  Sid has her priorities.

"I have a desktop, too," she says, her voice growing louder as she leaves her room, closing the door gently behind her more out of habit than any desire for Grace to keep from seeing inside.  She's holding in one hand an android tablet she bought secondhand from someone at work.  It's not the biggest or the thinnest, but it gets the job done.  "I don't know, if I have this and my phone, do you think I'd need that many backups?"  As comfortable as Sid is becoming in this life of hers, she will always, always be paranoid about one thing or another.

She glances around and realizes that this room still does not have proper seating.  "Ah."  Looking back to Grace, she asks, a touch sheepish, "are the bean bags okay?"

Grace
"Sid, I certainly didn't want to be found by a demon movie... thing," Grace says, "But it certainly found me. I think a little caution is certainly warranted. You would too, or you wouldn't be looking to spread the love of Ginger to all your things."

Grace sidles over to the rug and beanbag chairs, plopping down in one like it's hers. The laptop bag is placed gently on the floor, and she pulls the equipment out while Sid's grabbing her tablet. "Oooh, Android. This will be good," she mutters to herself, when Sid procures it.

"It's not a problem for me to install it on everything. I don't mind," she says, squishing into her beanbag. "The bean bags are fantastic. I love it!"

Grace connects a thin cable to the tablet and powers it on. The other end goes to the laptop, and she taps out a few commands. "Other people's devices have been a little more difficult. iPhones require a bit of tinkering to bypass their ridiculous policies, older phones can be tricky to set up too. But this is easy. Your desktop should be super easy too." She says all this stuff while staring intently at the screen, almost like Sid isn't there, and she's talking more to the laptop...

"Okay! Done! Where's the other machine?"

Sid
Sid can't help it, she breathes out something that sounds like a laugh.  "I don't know anyone who would want to be found by a demon gate movie.  I meant more...us.  You and me.  Others like us.  Denver was really quiet when I got here.  I thought..." but she shakes her head, never mind that.  "But there are more of us than I thought there were."  There always are, her tone seems to say.

She breathes out with relief when Grace says she can install Ginger into everything.  Just the three things will do for now, but it's good to know for the future.  Her brows lift when Grace mutters, but she doesn't interrupt.  Android devices are still very new to her, but Sid never had much fondness for Apple products.
"Good thing I got the new phone," she says, which has to be true.  Her old one was a flip phone she picked up in 2010 and a cheap one at that, all battered and banged around from all those years of use.  "I like Android, it's easier to, ah, customize.  Oh, the computer.  It's...well it was going to be new when I started it," she says, and again she offers Grace her hand to help her up once she's finished installing to the tablet.  "In here," she says, going to that bedroom door and opening it again.  There are some shelves, the top one of which is covered in potted plants that are bright green and blossoming despite the fact that the window into Sid's room is high up on the wall, tiny, and on the opposite side of the room.  There's furniture in this room, though it's an ecclectic assortment of things found on the side of the road or bought at yard sales or what have you.  The desk is cluttered with papers and a small pile of text books and notebooks.  The bookshelves are mostly empty.  The covers of the bed are fairly new and fairly nice.  There are no personal effects, though, no little knicknacks or pictures or anything, the sort of things that make a place as lived in.  The only way Grace can tell that this is Sid's room is she can feel it, can feel Sid's resonance caught and held in the walls and the old fabric of her desk chair.  She jiggles the mouse and brings her computer to life.  And then she steps back.

Sid's computer is better than decent, though far from top of the line.  She put it together herself with parts she purchased over several months.

Grace
"Androids are fairly easy to upgrade with your own stuff if you want. And I want. So I do," Grace grins.
"Oh hey, nice plants. I bought myself a little ivy recently. Her name's Chloe," Grace says, as she walks into the room, carrying her laptop. She slides into the (happy, oh so happy) desk chair and sets the laptop up at the desk.

Someone else recently visited Grace's apartment and asked her if she'd just just moved in -- her place is just that bare. In a way, Sid's mishmashed basement feels like home.

Again, the cable gets attached, and Grace sets to work.

"Chloe is... interesting," she says, continuing about her silly ivy. "I've been doing some study on photosynthesis. Really amazing stuff that."

Sid
Sid glances to the plants, which are a wide mix of things, at least one of which should not be in bloom this time of year.  Hard to tell, though, because its natural habitat is not Colorado.  And maybe Sid uses fertilizer, or experiments on it.  Four those plants, four pots containing four of the same flower, were part of an experiment once.  One that Sid had had to abandon finally.  Sometimes theories don't work out.  Sometimes weird things are just weird things, with no bearing in science whatsoever.

"What kind is she?" she asks, hooking her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans and leaning her leg against her bed.  She's curious about this plant named Chloe.  "It can be," she replies, the corners of her mouth lifting at mention of photosynthesis.

Grace
"She is an English ivy. Hedera helix. Got her for a couple of bucks at a gift shop," Grace says, and yes -- imagine a little gift shop container of ivy with a little stick holding a little card to write someone a "Thank you" or "Get Well" and you'll know Chloe. In fact, the little stick holding the little card is still there -- Grace hasn't removed it yet, because she's Grace.

The takka-takka on her keyboard slows, like she's trying to think and type at the same time, and she finally turns, her eyes taking on a slight but noticeable wildness. "I saw one of the leaves computing a shortest-path algorithm utilizing quantum coherence. I saw it."

"It was so amazing. Certainly makes one think. I mean, I always thought that coherence would be instantly destroyed at room temperature, too much jostling by other particles. But there it was, being a tiny little quantum computer, like it just didn't care about the rules. Hah. I like Chloe."

She's both named and gendered a plant. And one gets the feeling that she wouldn't have, if it weren't for that little quantum coherence fact. It's less a plant to her anymore, and more a piece of wonderous new tech that she wants to prod.

Sid
Sid can imagine what Chloe must look like, tucked into her little pot, arms stretching out over the edge and reaching reaching reaching.  Looking for a cool place where she can thrive.

"What?" she asks, red brows coming together over the rims of her glass, confused.  For the moment, Grace keeps going, typing and chatting away.

"Did you do something to it?" she asks, curiosity piqued by a plant that cares little for the rules of physics.  "How did you see it?  Did you...did you work something?" she asks, not quite sure about her terminology when it comes to magical things.  One could say that Sid grew up on the outskirts of town, far away from a proper education on the glossary of magical terms people use.

Grace
"I didn't do anything to it, not to make it behave like that," she explains. "You know how photosynthesis is a bit more efficient than it should be? Well, huh, maybe you don't know... But it is. It's got this edge that classical physics just can't explain. I ran into that with my thesis, and it bugged me. So I looked into it."
She's psyched now, going on about something she's not even sure Sid has the means to understand. But surely Sid does. She likes biology, right? As for the how, exactly...

"Well... the how's complicated. I can show you. It's like... I use my computer to look at the plant's source code. I make a model of what's going on outside, and view it. I guess yeah, it's Working?""

Sid
Grace asks about the efficiency of photosynthesis and Sid is just about to answer when she catches herself.  She lets Grace continue instead, her mouth firming more than a little at maybe you don't know.

"I think you told me about the models when we met," she adds quietly, content to let Grace go on, to explain what she saw inside the leaf of a plant.  In the meantime, she starts coming up with her own theories and ideas and perhaps even eventual studies of her own.  She certainly has plenty of plants, more in her room at the Chantry than she has even here (excluding her backyard, of course).

And the truth is, she does like biology.  The problem is her instinct, the thing she's learned to do over the last several years is to, well.

[hide it.  manip+subt]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (6, 8, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )

Grace
[find it. perception + subt]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 6, 6, 10) ( success x 3 )

Grace
She doesn't notice that Sid's about to answer her, because Grace's mouth is running at the speed of her brain, and Sid hides it very well.

"Yes, the models. I am working on a model plant, you see... Built off of math, physics, so it grows like a real plant, right? But building it like they say a plant is built doesn't quite work, yeah? Ohh, but now I know how plants work," she says, and turns back to the laptop. She brings up something else besides the installation scripts (they are finished, but Sid doesn't know that) and starts drawing on the screen.

"It's like, classical physics says that these particles in the leaves get struck with photons, and then they go off randomly. Some of them happen to make it to a sugar factory," she says, and draws a particle getting hit with light beams, and then an arrow pointing to the direction it's going to go.

"But what I saw was more like this... The particle gets hit with a photon, and it tries out every possible path it could take to the sugar factory. And when it finds the factory, the waveform collapses, and there it is. It's a quantum shortest-path algorithm," she says, and draws multiple ghostly circles, all 'trying different paths' to a literal factory-shaped diagram.

"It's really pretty. All that green," she says, looks up at Sid's top shelf with her plants. "All of it nonlocalized quantum computing brilliance. Of course Nature would be able to see what we can't seem to wrap our brains around, and freaking use it."

Sid
Sid moves to the end of the bed and leans back against it, so that her face is a little closer to the screen Grace is using.  With her better view, she analyzes the model, eyes tracing the lines that Grace draws, all the way up to the factory shaped diagram, which gets a slight smile.

"I don't know about models, but I think I can do that.  Maybe," she finishes, frowning thoughtfully.  Straightening, she reaches past Grace to grab a pen from the desk before straightening, turning on a pivot and going over to the shelf with those plants.  Each is the same, Grace will see, same type, same level of health, even the same kind of pot and same kind of soil if she has an eye for such things.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, the pot wedged between her thighs, Sid taps the pen against her lip two or three times before she starts drawing something on the inside of her forearm.  Grace can feel the magical charge of Sid's resonance build up around her, desperate but oh so joyous.  It's a feeling of creation, of growth and change.

Holding her hand near to the plant, Sid Wills its chemical structure to reshape, and reform.

[Alter Simple Creature, coincindental I think?  Life 2, -1 diff (never done this before, let's take it slooooooow)]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (5, 6) ( success x 2 )

Grace
Grace grins at Sid's resonance as it fills her perception, that signature of her Work. But, it doesn't seem to do anything to the plant. Nothing obvious, anyway.

"Hey, what did you do?" she asks, insanely curious. "Can I see?"

She's already booting up that other program on her laptop, the one which lets her see. The screen at first looks blank, like something went wrong, but then she types in a command...

[Life 1 -- Sense Life, spending WP because 1/10 chance of botch]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Grace
And... that screen turns into... a rather extremely accurate plant picture. Exactly that of the plant sitting in Sid's lap.

Sid
Sid takes her time, her eyes on the plant in her lap.  She doesn't touch it, if she did that would ruin everything she was trying to work inside of it.  Instead, she holds her hand close to the leaves and concentrates.  This is one of those things she hadn't thought to try until Grace mentioned it.

When she thinks she's finished, she blinks her eyes rapidly, refocusing on the room.  And she turns her head toward Grace.

"I tried altering it on a molecular level.  To, ah, to see if I could create those pathways."  She would survey her work magically, but she can already sense the air shifting around her, the ground beneath her feet, the bed on which she sits seeming to move a little even though it doesn't.  Instead of extending her own consciousness again, she holds the plant out to Grace.  That smile grows when she sees that model appear on the screen.

"That's handy."

Grace
"Yeah, it's extremely so. I'm gonna just..." she says, trailing off, as she fiddles with the touchpad and the model grows sharply bigger. She's magnifying the structure. Soon, the screen is filled with brilliant green honeycombs, the cells themselves. And then, the chloroplasts. It looks a bit like this:

http://botit.botany.wisc.edu/Resources/Botany/Chlorophyta/Hydrodictyon/Chloroplast.jpg

"So yeah, let's have a look see... Find out what you did."

Sid
Grace trails off as she starts fiddling with her equipment, the scripts for Ginger forgotten for the moment.  At least, it's a background concern now.

And the thing is, the diagram that Sid drew a little of on her arm looks a bit like the cell-like structure of chloroplasts, except a little hastily and imperfectly represented.  Detail doesn't matter to this focus of Sid's, though.  For her, it's the thought that counts, and as she was thinking of rearranging the cellular pathways within her little plant, that's what she went with.

She comes around to the end of the bed again and sits back on it, her body leaned forward, bringing with her the brunt of her euphoric presence.  It tinges the air, stoking the excitement of both women to be experimenting and researching in their own way on a similar idea.  Sid places her hands to either side of her hips, her fingers twitching with too much pent up energy, the only sign of her own joy.

"Can you tell if it would work now?  Like you said?  I don't think I know enough about Forces to throw photons at it," she adds, rueful.  Like Grace, Sid still has a lot to learn about magic and how to wield it and will it to do what she wants.

Grace
"What do you mean? There's photons all over the place, it's a photon soup in here, or else we wouldn't be seeing anything," she says, but truth be told, there are no photons in her little image. Just the effects of them, and for that, she has to dig deeper.

The image on the screen grows even more, down and down to a chemical level, and there... One can see.
It's dance-like, but frenetic, and Grace has to slow the framerate down to watch it -- slowing the pulse of energy through the chlorophyll. You can tell that the molecules have partners in this dance by the way they're jostled, but the photons themselves -- absent. But the energy they impart moves, and it moves fast and everywhere at once. Life's engines of creation, on overdrive.

"Sid... you got this plant on speed. Hahaha!"

Sid
"No, I mean," she starts, but stops, watching the screen instead.  What she meant isn't important, not while Grace is enhancing and enhancing clear down to the chemical level, to where they can see what Sid would only feel if she performed her own scan.

She frowns, less excited, more concerned.  And she holds out her hands to take it back.  "I didn't mean to do that, it'll burn itself out.  Let me see if I can change it again."  Change it back, maybe.  Fix it.  Or change it into something new.

[And again!  Alter Simple Creature, same as before, take it sloooooooow]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (10, 10) ( success x 2 )

Grace
Grace adjusts the view again, and this time the framerate only has to be slowed a bit... well, fewer orders of magnitude. But now, the energy moving through the plant in waves interferes with itself just so and the dance is less frantic. It sets up interference patterns whose hot spots just touch upon the places which Grace (and surely Sid) know are the 'factories' drawn minutes ago on her little diagram.

The visual effect is that of a shimmering green veil, with little spikes of activity right where they need to be. And the rest of the plant is relatively still, with little energy lost.

"Oooh... changed again," Grace says. "You should.. you know, do one of these different things to each plant, and see what it looks like after! I bet you could grow some neat stuff."

Sid
"I might work it in my garden," she says, studying the screen, the plant held between her hands now.  "It's going to get cold soon, I bet I could make some things last a little longer."  Not that she really has to worry about cold snaps.  With a touch, Sid can restore almost any plant, she could bring a tree to bear fruit in the middle of the winter.

She looks up at the shelf.  After a second she rises to put the plant back up there with its fellows.  "Starting in here would be a better place to start."  Looking back to Grace, the corners of her mouth lift into a slight smile.  "We have a privacy fence, but, ah.  Neighbors, they might notice if the clematis is climbing the fence in the middle of November.

"How's the install?" she asks, for the moment bringing them back to the original purpose of Grace's visit.  Moving over, Sid perches on the edge of her bed again.

Grace
"Oh, that's done... I just got sidetracked, I know... I'm sorry. But yeah, it's functional," she says, unplugs the laptop and cord from Sid's computer.

"But really, you can do that? Make the clematis live through winter?" Grace sounds quite interested. "You know a lot about plants, then. I can just watch. I wouldn't know the first thing about how to... do what you just did."

Sid
Grace apologizes and Sid gives a slight shake of her head, a wordless Don't worry about it.  Which she could say, but then Sid's lived, well, a while using as few words as possible to communicate.  Slowly, though, she's shaking off the rust of a disused social skillset.  She'll get there.  Or maybe she won't.

"I think so," she says, but shrugs.  "I never tried it before.  I never tried that before."  And then, quietly, "I'm so behind."  But!  There is another slight shake of her head, this time for herself.  Soon enough.  She'll get there soon enough.

And another shrug.  "A lot of it's just...knowing the cell structure.  Or the chemicals.  That make up a living thing.  At least, that's how I understand it."

Grace
"So you do know a lot about plants then. That's quite a lot. I mean, I saw the marks on your arm, that's like... the chloroplast structures, right?"

She glances over at her screen, the thrumming, scintillating thing upon it. "And this, it makes sense to you?"

Sid
Sid looks at her arm, at the diagram she made.  Mouth quirking, she runs her thumb over it, the ink still just-wet enough to smear and obscure it.  Not to hide it, of course, Sid doesn't mind it's discovery right there above that odd tattoo of hers.  Two circles, seven dots (one in the middle, two on the inner circle, four on the outer), and beneath it the words WE ARE MADE OF STARSTUFF.  She nods, yes, that's what the diagram was.  "It's, ah, it's how I focus.  On Life, anyway."

Looking over at the screen her head tilts, a shadow forming between her brows.  Eventually there is another nod.

Grace
[perception + empathy = Does Grace get that Sid is hiding what she really knows?]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Sid
[does she??? subterfuge]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 6, 9) ( success x 2 )

Grace
"Sagan. I like Sagan. He said a lot of cool things," Grace sighs. "Like, how we are a way for the cosmos to know itself."

And there goes the scientist, off on a more mystical bent. "I really believe that, you know."

"But... you like Sagan enough to get a tattoo, and you know all the chemicals and processes of plants... Why do you hide so much? I mean, you're not just a science buff, are you?" she asks the question carefully. It's not a judgement. Grace fears being called the T word herself. She's just intrigued.

Sid
"Me, too," she says, smiling a smile that vanishes a second later, morphing into a frown.

Sid, perhaps strangely, doesn't fear being labeled as a Technocrat.  Probably because she doesn't know much about them, except to flee if they show up.  Flee like the wind.

Her eyes lower to her hands, to the tattoo there, and shifts her arm, stretching it down and twisting it so that, at least from her angle, she can see the edge of her forearm.

"Because, then people ask me how I know and I can't tell them.  I mean, I can, I guess," she adds with a shrug.  "But it hurts.  And they react badly, and it hurts even more."

Grace
Grace's expression: sad and confused. Why? But then, it hurts Sid to talk about it, somehow. Grace looks like she's about to say something, then changes her mind, and it comes out like this: "Wh...uh..."

"I'm sorry..." For what? She doesn't know. But it's the learned thing to say when people act like Sid.

"I don't know what happened to you, and... I guess I don't need to. None of my business," she gives Sid a little crazed half-smile. Truth be told, Grace really wants to know. It's something wrapped up inside her to know, and admitting that it's none of her business is very difficult indeed.

Sid
Again Grace apologizes.  Sid looks up, momentarily confused.  She hadn't pried, she hadn't stared her down like she was some puzzle waiting to be unlocked like that Hermetic.  She didn't inundate her with questions like Sera sometimes does.

Luckily for Grace who wants to know but knows this is a thread of information she should leave untugged, she's inadvertently stumbled across the secret only two other people seem to have learned in getting Sid to open up.

Leave her alone.  Let her be.  Back off when they get too close.  It makes her want to be more like how she used to be and less like how she's come to be.

That doesn't make it any easier.  The words come slowly, when they come at all, halting and hesitant as though each one is a barb that cuts something inside of her as she pulls them out, one by one.

"It's just...it's.  It's complicated," she says finally.  "My...Awakening, it was, ah."  Her hand reaches up to scratch just beneath her ear, her eyes are focused somewhere to the side.  Somehow, that makes it just a little bit easier.  She can't keep avoiding Grace, though, who is sitting right there, her resonance shifting all around Sid's bedroom.  When she looks at her, her mouth is quirked into a humorless half-grin.  "It was brutal.  Or well.  The Awakening itself was wonderful.  It's trigger, though, that was.  Brutal.  I had to get away.  From where I was.  So.  I ran.  And I left that life behind.  All of it."

Her fingers lace together, but her face crumples, and her voice breaks.  "It's just, it's so hard.  I didn't want a fresh start, I just.  I wanted to be safe."

Grace
Another Mage describing their Awakening as something horrible, disturbing, something so private they can't talk about it. But Sid did even more -- ran away from a life. And it looks like it's still so painful.

To Grace, this is like watching someone with a head would, and being unable to help. She just... doesn't know comforting yet. Some might reach out for a hug, but not this one. Hugs are not comfortable things to Grace.

And her own Awakening was so gentle in comparison to most others she's heard, that it's hard to empathize. She can't say 'oh, I know, mine was rough too' or anything. So she just sits there, uncomfortable, trying to imagine what to say.

Eventually, she decides on, "That does sound really tough," and looks away. "I... um... If you want to talk about it you can. Or not, that's cool too."

Grace
[would = wound, bleh]

Sid
[awarepathy!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 2 )

Sid
Sid realizes immediately that Grace is...if not uncomfortable, awkward.  Unsure.  And she gets it, she really does.  She's been there, still goes there sometimes when she's around people she doesn't know well, or doesn't trust.  Except in her case, it wasn't that she didn't know how, it was that she was afraid.

No tears drip down over her cheeks, but Sid does sniff, showing that it was a near thing.  She offers Grace that same slight smile, grateful and sympathetic all at once.  But she shakes her head.  "It doesn't really help," she explains in a quieter voice than before.

And then, stronger as she sits herself up a little, straightens her shoulders, tries to feel something that had withered away over the years and is just starting to strengthen again, "I've been trying to keep moving forward.  I made my choice, and it hasn't, well, it's gotten better."  She glances around the room which, Grace wouldn't know, has newer and slightly nicer things in it than before.

"I'm sorry, too."  She rises then, offering Grace that slight smile again.  "It's getting a little late.  You walked here, right?  Do you need a lift home?"

Grace
"Well, that's good, that's... you know, looking to the future, and all that," Grace says, still a bit uncomfortable. She knows she struck a nerve with Sid, and doesn't want everything to go 'blargh' all the sudden. Damn, but other people can be hard to figure out.

But still, watching Sid put herself back together isn't perfect either. Aren't people supposed to, you know, cry it out? That's the way it happens in the movies at least. Maybe she's just not trusted, or maybe that discomfort Grace feels is written all over her face, and Sid's just holding it in to be polite. Or...

And then, Sid wants to take her back home. Okay, yeah.

"Oh... Well, normally I'd say no, but there's zombies and stuff out there," Grace replies, apologetically. The laptop with its still-shimmering green landscape gets shut, and she gets out of the chair to go put it away.

Philosophical Zombies

Grace

It's late when Grace sends out the messages. College student late. College student pulling all-nighters late. So she doesn't really expect a response immediately, but apparently this could not wait until a more decent time of the morning.

Then again, she is sending these messages to Gadfly, who has erratic tendencies of his own, so who knows?

The encrypted texts that she sends to Ginger read like so:

Chimeric1 says: I know you are busy with Ginger and all, but I really need some advice.

Did you know about the zombies? If not, yeah, there were a couple of zombie attacks. One human, and one a pack of dogs. News said it was rabies. Yeah, no.

Chimeric1 says: I met this priest who put them down *twice* but the dogs really tore him up.

Okay, and this priest, he glows.

So, they put a guy like that in the ICU, right?

I'm thinking I need a shotgun or something.

Chimeric1 says: Priest guy is seriously freaky. It's like being in an interrogation room with him. I'm just saying.

Chimeric1 says: Anyway, sorry for freaking out at you. It's almost 4. I hope I didn't wake you up. I couldn't sleep.

How's Ginger?

Chimeric1 says: Oh yeah, and I hope you're doing well.

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  Zombies?  I honestly didn’t think it was possible.  Those things were supposed to be a hoax.  A cultural sham.  Not undead, just doped up and forced into servitude.

Next he’s sending a file.  Several files actually, all in a compressed folder.  Among them are a few which he has amended 'useful’ to the file names.  Scans of books like ‘The Serpent and the Rainbow’ and an obviously unpublished document from someone at the University of Michigan entitled ‘Zombies: a scientific explanation’.  The others all have to do with films and pop culture.  He apparently doesn’t find these all that interesting, but has included them anyway.

Gadfly83 says:  At least that’s what Wade Davis seams to have discovered. 

Gadfly83 says:  Are you sure they weren’t really just rabid?  Hydrophobia affects the brain in strange ways.  A flood of adrenaline might explain both unreasonable aggression and the ability to shrug off a wound.

Gadfly83 says:  Glows?  That sounds uncomfortable.  Radiation?

Gadfly83 says:  They attacked him?  Bit him?  Is he...y’know...showing any signs?

Gadfly83 says:  I’d actually recommend a bite-proof suit more than a shot gun.  Something durable, but light weight.  Something you could still run-the-fuck-away in.

Gadfly83 says:  You did wake me, but only because I fell asleep at the keyboard.  So actually, thanks.  Ginger’s running nicely.  Something missing from the voice though.  Can’t quite get the splices to sound natural.  But unless I can hire the same voice actor, I guess I just gotta work with what I’ve got.

Grace

Chimeric1 says: The priest told me straight up that he buried one of his flock. Soon after, the guy's brother called, because bro was out of the grave clawing the door down. That does not sound like rabies to me. And I've got 3 eye-witnesses to the dogs saying the same thing. They looked dead, at the very least.

Chimeric1 says: Plus, you remember what I said about that bio-lab, right? They're looking at meshing nanotech and bodies. I made the observation that perhaps they were working on something in the lab, and oops, it worked a little too well, and ended up 'enhancing' people even after death. Or maybe that was the point of their research? 

Chimeric1 says: Thanks for the files, I have actually already read The Serpent and the Rainbow. I'll start on the others right away.

Chimeric1 says: Maybe zombie is a poor choice of words. Reanimated?

Chimeric1 says: I really didn't want to say anything, but yeah, it is bugging me about them getting so close to the dogs. If it is something nanotech, they could be swarming with bots now and not know it.

Chimeric1 says: About the suit idea, I have no idea where to find something like that. Body Armor R' Us?

Chimeric1 says: Well, of course splices aren't going to sound natural. Too much of a difference at the edges. Have you tried pitch normalization? Of course, that might make her sound a bit robotic.

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  That definitely changes things.  And the thought did cross my mind.  So the conscious mind dies and the nanos set out to do some repair, including fulfilling established procedures.

Gadfly83 says:  Dead guy digs himself up and...goes home.  The same way drunk drivers do.  There's no need for conscious thought, the location and route have a physical presence in the brains neural network.

Gadfly83 says:  The dogs form packs and go hunting, because that's what's at their deepest selves.  Instinct.

Gadfly83 says:  But why the aggression though?  The dogs I might understand, but the guy.

Gadfly83 says:  What does that say about our core human selves?

Gadfly83 says:  I'd like to know more.  What do we know about this guy?

Gadfly83 says:  Oh!  Is he still out there?  Shambling around maybe?  Did the priest cut off the head and burn the body?  Is there a body?  Can we have it?

Gadfly83 says:  Its more than just her voice.  The backgrounds too clean.  Think I'll try and get some recording of some office noise.

Grace

'Can we have it?' In the light of her laptop monitor, Grace's face twisted in disgust. Do what now? Obtain the body? There is a line, man, a line.

Chimeric1 says: The guy's name was Eduardo, was an illegal immigrant from Veracruz. Pan didn't tell me exactly how he re-killed the guy, but did say that the family hasn't reported any further 'incidents'. Body is buried. Don't know where, and I don't know about you, but I would rather not have a bot-infested body in my apartment.

Chimeric1 says: I could ask some more about it...

Chimeric1 says: Why does the voice have to be so perfect? Why do you need office noise? Is this another something that I don't know about yet? Like the Vesuvius tablets?

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  Hm.  Good point.  And an illegal ought to be pretty hard to track.  

Gadlfy83 says:  I'll look into the defensive then.  There's gotta be something out there.

Gadfly83 says:  Because.

Gadfly83 says:  Its cool.

Gadfly83 says:  Half the things I've done, I've done because it was cool.  Nifty.  Fun.  Don't really see the point of doing it otherwise.  Oh, except for satisfying the basic human needs.  

Gadfly83 says:  Its like hunters and gatherers who shift to an agrarian lifestyle, and suddenly start charting the stars.  Whats the need for that other than they're up there and they're cool looking.

Grace

Chimeric1 says: http://www.ppss-group.com/bite_resistant_clothing.html ? I just did a search for bite resistant clothing. Check out the pic of the guy biting an arm, with the 'buy from our online shop' ad. Looks like exactly what we need to stop zombies! At least, their teeth.

Chimeric1 says: Should still, I don't know, subtly suggest the ones who got bit need to get tested.

Chimeric1 says: I really hate the zombie idea, you know, the way they're presented in media. The metaphors. Everyone's walking around mindless, and if you're not careful, you will be infected and made mindless too. And it's so hopeless. You're fighting this unending, hopeless battle against mindlessness. And it's just a matter of time before you lose.

It's like they're saying we're all being driven to mindless consumerism (mmm brains), and instead of fighting (because culture is already dead by the time the movie starts) we should just give up and learn to love McDonalds. We could fight back, but it's useless. It's propaganda. I think.

Chimeric1 says: You know, I hope the zombies in our case aren't 'catching'. That would be depressing.

Chimeric1 says: You do any cool things lately? I don't feel like obsessing about the undead anymore.

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  That stuff looks AWESOME!  I'll dangle it in front of Gus and see if I can get him to bite.

Gadfly83 says:  You know you're not a part of that crowd anymore, right?  You've started down a path separate from them.  You're a power user.  You're the survivor.  Usually those movies are about the survivors trying to adapt to a new culture, one that doesn't involve feeding off your fellow man.  Both literally and figuratively.

Gadfly83 says:  To acknowledge the shortcomings of society, the difference in yourself, and somehow maintain some semblance of civilization.  Not the civilization you just came from though.  Take 'Night of the Living Dead'  They're locked in and have to overcome their differences to survive.  And as a result they're changed by the time they get through it.  But the moment they encounter that old society: BANG!  Shot to the head.

Gadfly83 says:  That's one used to piss me off for a while.  I sorta got over it though.

Gadfly83 says:  What do you think it feels like?  I mean...do you think they'd actually know if they were?

Gadfly83 says:  Alright, alright.  No more undead.  Well, no more discussing it.  Lets just be prepared. 

Grace

Grace had to lift a brow at Gadfly. Dangle it in front of Gus, and see if he'll bite? And then talking about not feeding off your fellow man. Reanimated calling the zombie dead? Or maybe he just doesn't consider Gus a 'fellow' at all anymore. It's hard for Grace to share that opinion, having so recently left the likes of Gus behind.

Chimeric1 says: Do you just get Gus to buy you everything you need? I've never really figured that one out. How do you do that?

Chimeric1 says: Seriously, I would really like to learn how you do that. The bluetooth spec for the brain. Not that I want a Gus, but you know, fuzzing people's perceptions like that one time in Aurora? That was pretty cool.

Chimeric1 says: And you can overclock your brain? Multitask? I need some of that. Maybe I can make one part of my brain think about zombies, while the other part thinks about my thesis...

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  Not everything I need.  Believe me, I wouldn't trust him with my grocery list.  Just certain things that the whack-a-molers might raise an eyebrow at if they saw one of my credit card numbers attached to it.  

Gadfly83 says:  He's got poor impulse control.  Naturally I mean.  Doesn't have anything to do with me.  I found him that way, I swear.

Gadfly83 says:  Are you familiar with Benjamin Libets concept of "Free won't"?

Gadfly83 says:  He goes to the same school as you, y'know.  

Gadfly83 says:  Gus, not Libet.  Libet's dead.  

Gadfly83 says:  Has been for about four years off and on.  

Gadfly83 says:  Gus, I mean.  

Gadfly83 says:  At least, that's what his credit report says.  I guess he's not too bright.  He does a lot of the same classes over.  And he's got a nasty weed habit.  

Gadfly83 says:  That's just one of his nasty habits, in fact, but we won't get into that.

Gadfly83 says:  And every so often he sees something cool on TV or the internet, and before you know it he's on the line with a customer service agent, credit card in hand.

Gadfly83 says:  Its proof of Libet's theory of free won't in that Gus doesn't have any free won't.  Or very little of it anyway.  

Gadfly83 says:  If it weren't for him I'd have never heard of Strivers.

Gadfly83 says:  Hardest part is getting it from him afterwards.  He's been a little paranoid since the last break in.

Gadfly83 says:  There's also Libet's Conscious Mental Field Theory, or CMF.  That's mostly what we'll be working with for the second step.  Only Libet stopped at the brain as the physical manifestation of the mind.  We won't make that mistake.

And without waiting for an answer, he's sending over a file.  This time with a pretty long label.  "Unconscious Cerebral Initiative and the Role of Conscious Will in Voluntary Action"  Where does he get these things?  Where does he store them?

Gadfly83 says:  Its a pretty dry read, but it'll come in handy.  Its a fairly long road, one that might pull you away from your thesis work.  But once you make that first step, its all rabbit holes and drink-me potions from there.

Gadfly83 says:  How 'bout I send you some more stuff, you do some independent research, and I let you see a little bit of my cognitive OS.  Figure it out in time and you'll be able to blast right through your thesis.

Grace

Chimeric1 says: You break into his house? To get your stuff? Isn't that dangerous? I mean, if you got caught... 

Chimeric1 says: Maybe less dangerous than the other way, though, I hear you.

In the grand scheme of things, perhaps safety trumps a little moral grey area. It's why she broke the long-standing rule of no more malicious cracking. There wasn't malice involved, just the need for protection. And maybe a little intellectual stimulation.

The file gets decrypted, perused a bit...

Chimeric1 says: I would love some more stuff. I inhale more stuff.

And she does, she really does. The promise to see a bit of his cognitive OS has her nearly bouncing as well, even though it's been a while since she's slept last.

Chimeric1 says: Thing is, about my thesis, I really don't know what to do. I have figured it out. I just don't know how much I can expound on exactly, because of how I figured it out.

Chimeric1 says: My focus is simulations. My thesis is a plant sim. But you know, better than most. I was going down to the basics -- modeling photosynthesis and nitrogen fixing to promote growth and such, so it's a realistic biochem model? Anyway. There was always something wrong. Live data not matching the sim. Had to use magic numbers to get it to match. Not cool.

Chimeric1 says: And well, I bought a plant. I got my computer out, and started looking at it really hard. Did you know that the green pigments in plants are in a state of superposition at the moment of photon absorption? Yeah, they're using that to suck up more wavelengths and energy levels of light than is really known. Highly efficient. But then, I would expect nothing less.

Chimeric1 says: Trouble is, it helps the simulation be more realistic, sure. But I think I'm just going to have to magic number it. It sucks. I can't go and say outright what I know about the plant! At least I have a nifty way to get the right magic numbers now.

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  No!  There's this junky.  I don't know his name.  He doesn't have ID.  He breaks in, and takes the stuff.  I buy it off him for cash.

Gadfly83 says:  Did we talk about backlash yet?  About reality asserting itself?  You can't have a million dollars suddenly land in your lap because there are a million billion people who say it just doesn't work that way.  Consensual reality, remember?  Even when there's no one watching, reality will only stand so much fudging of the rules.

Gadfly83 says:  Its important to always think of the work around.  Even if its sometimes a lot more convoluted than going directly to the source.  That kind of thinking, planning, plotting, could some day save your life.

Gadfly83 says:  And in the end, these two serve a purpose.  Sure it only benefits me directly, but that's one person more than before.

Gadfly83 says:  Sorry, I'm not that good with the squishy bits.

Gadfly83 says:  But maybe I can be.  We can do an educational exchange.  This month you, next month me.

Yes, month.  He said month.  Just how much reading was he planning to send?  That's when it starts coming.  File after file on nueorscience, low amplitude energy fields, bio-feedback, electro-kenisis, muscle memory, and even a couple on new age healing crystals.  

Gadfly83 says:  That should do for a start.  By the way, what do all these have in common?  They all lack that final step.  They get so hemmed into their own scientific theories, their view of the world, and their personal belief systems, that they can't break beyond that wall of what they call impossible.

Gadfly83 says:  So much potential.  So much doubt.

Gadfly83 says:  If they'd suggested that next step, no one would take them seriously.  They'd get laughed out of their respective fields.  So they go right up to the edge and in some cases highlight the limitations saying 'If only there were some way to overcome this thing that we all agree is impossible."

Gadfly83 says:  And that works out pretty fine for them.  

Gadfly83 says:  That's your thesis.  Give them the best plant simulation that a luser could ever come up with.  

Gadfly83 says:  Give them the horse.  Save the Zebra for us.

Grace

Chimeric1 says: Yeah, we've talked about backlash. Remember that time you put a wormhole behind my head? And I screwed up the code to see it? It's like that, right?

Chimeric1 says: Squishy bits? You mean biology? I don't know how much I can help you there, but I can try. I don't have as much reading material on it. Plants are easy, though, they're simple. I can maybe show you a few things, sure.

She sends that last message just as even more reading material gets dumped in her lap.

Chimeric1 says: Where do you get all this? The files I mean.

Chimeric1 says: And how do you know they haven't broken the wall of the 'impossible' and are just hiding that, because they'd get laughed out of their respective fields? I mean, I'm doing that, aren't I?

Chimeric1 says: It still feels wrong somehow. I'm not a horse. I'm faking the horse. But I know we can't show our stripes.

Chimeric1 says: I think I'm going to name my plant Chloe. She's an ivy. Pretty superpositioned green.

Andrew

Gadfly83 says:  Its like that sometimes.  Sometimes its not.  It may be the last great mystery of the universe for some of us.  I've heard stories of people who pissed off reality so bad that they get sucked into different realities -- different dimensions or timelines sometimes -- just to maintain the stability of this one.  Of course that's all high level, Gandalf the white type stuff, but the point is clear.

Gadfly83 says:  I've been collecting files like these ever since I can remember.  I digitize most things I can get my hands on too, but I don't go looking for much to be honest.  I don't trust the libraries and their cards and their tracking of my reading habits.  Its gonna sound paranoid but its really another part of the whole agenda.  Knowledge is dangerous and they know it.

Gadfly83 says:  I suppose I don't know that.  I suppose that's what the techs do.  They call it fringe science.  We call it...well, the trads call it magic.