Red Fox for Carnivale

carnevale
[hit me with your percept+awareness rolls, plz!]

Alyssa Solomon
[[Awaredar!]]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 6, 7, 9) ( success x 3 )

Kalen Holliday
[P/Awareness!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
[Oh!  Dammit!
Nightmares!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 4, 4, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

Grace
[Nightmares!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 2, 4, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Grace
[Perception+Awareness!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

carnevale
Snow.  Only a few inches of the stuff will have Denver residents begging off their early morning commutes, but it never stops them from going out and having a good time.  Take tonight for example.  The air is crisp and bitter cold and there is just enough of a dusting of white on the ground to make some of the roads slick and barely manageable, but the streets of Santa Fe are lined with cars.  There's a party going down on the one-way street.  It started on the north end of the artistic alley, originating at Interstate Kitchen & Bar.  That was a couple of hours ago.  People have since spilled out from the restaurant to fill the sidewalks.  Someone's set up giant speakers on the corner of an intersection and is currently blasting Lorde's "Team" into the street.
About ninety percent of the people crowding up the sidewalks, making it almost impossible to pass on the narrow strip of brick walkway on the east side of the street, are wearing masks.  Half masks, full masks.  Some delicate and complicated as a snowflake, some clunky and homemade.  Some are in costumes, but many are dressed in jeans and coats and flannels.  These people are in the spirit of the event, though.  Carnevale.  A several day celebration of excess and intoxication (with art, with substances, with alcohol, with lust, with...) leading up to the Christian fasting holiday.
Our heroes are on the strip somewhere, but they can all feel it.  A tingle in the air beyond the bitter, lung chilling cold.  It's faint, the warping of reality a faint thing for who knows why, but it seems to be drifting on the wind with the music, or perhaps from it.  It moves like a charge, lifting the small hairs on the backs of arms and tingling up spines in a finger of electricity.  It yearns and craves and seems to whisper in the ears of those with the sense to feel it.

Alyssa Solomon
It's a Saturday night, and of course Alyssa is out.  She's not the partying type; she doesn't really go to nightclubs (anymore) and she certainly isn't the kind who hangs out with a posse of happy-go-lucky barhoppers.  But she does enjoy, in a sort of perverse way, being around humanity.  She's on the outside looking in and it lets her watch what people think their lives are like; what she could have been if not for--
Well.  If not for a thousand different things, starting with her birth.
So tonight she's out on the street, a heavy black wool longcoat on with the collar flipped up to protect against any surprise chilling gusts of wind.  Her hair falls free as it always does, over the shoulders of the coat and down to her mid-back.  She's put enough care into her makeup to make it attractive, with her black-and-red lips and a little Egyptain-esque spike to the the outer edges of of her eyes.  Only the lightest of foundation, to make her a touch pale without being overt about it.  The smell of burning clove oil trails along from the cherry of her cigarette as she moves through the crowd with that odd coppery smell and whoosh of feathered wings registering in the minds of those who may pick up on such things; even those who don't know there's something different.  She may even get a double-take or two from those who don't see her reflected in a window here and there.
And then she feels it.  There's a sudden, complete stop as the eletric charge hits her vertebrae, her chin rising and her eyes narrowing.  Those made-up lips pucker thoughtfully, eyes narrowing in suspicion.  And then, without any more hesitration, she reaches into her pocket to come out with a pin that she can press into her palm.  Not much blood....just enough to wet the tip.  She steps back, out of the middle of the stereet and into a doorway so she can not be in open view of everyone, then takes the bloodied pin and traces the fifth pentacle of Jupiter to grant her vision.  Then her eyes open and she starts looking for a trail to follow.
[[Corr 1/Prime 1: Watch the Weaving!  WP]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (1, 1) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Kalen Holliday
For Kalen, this is magical.  Even considering that he's in some arctic mountains instead of in Venice.
And, even it being the arctic, Kalen is dressed up.  Of course, gold velvet brocade coats are warm enough to qualify both as costuming and necessary protection from the elements in those situations where twisting them into your will is not appropriate.  The rest of his clothing, pants, boots, gloves, even his cane, is gold.  His mask is a golden (and considering this Kalen might have actual gold leaf) lion, with slender bits of metal dangling feathers and amber beads like a mane.  He has made no attempt to dye his hair, but he (or possibly some impish accomplice) has gotten golden glitter all over it.  Very close attention through the mask reveals his eyes are outlined in metallic gold.
And-this is perhaps the most amazing part-he is absolutely delighted.  He can practically taste the energy of the music and the crowd.  One day-one day so soon that it seems to drift in with each little tease of spring in a warm breeze, he will be able to taste the energy of the crowd.
WAIT!
He does taste the music.  All vibrant and alive and it tastes like possibility and electricity and---and what?
His eyes widen a little behind the mask and his breath catches and even as he starts shifting closer through the crowd, one hand on his cane, one hand wrapped around Grace's wrist to pull her along with him and not lose her in the jostling crowd he really tries to see what that energy is.
[Arete! Watch the Weaving  WP!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (4, 6) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Grace
Grace has been dragged here against her will. Okay, so that's a bit dramatic and untrue. It didn't take too much to get her to say yes. But that's just because everything is so *fucking* *wrong* with all her equipment turned off.
She should be working on The Wall. Instead, she's out here with Kalen in a ridiculous mask (which thankfully covers up the fuming fussy face of hers). It's a delicate, laser-cut thing made of coppery metal that hugs the contours of her face (because she mashed it into place). It's supposed to look like a curliqued and sweeping and elegant fox head, but it makes *her* look like an elegantly carved android with metal ears because someone thought it would be cute.
She has to go outside, in the crowd. The mask is a bit of a comfort here. It lets her look around without everyone knowing who and what she's looking at, or what she really looks like.
Kalen was *not* able to convince her that she needed a full costume to go with. But she accepted the offer of a coat that would go with the mask, a red suede thing to keep out the cold, cut in fox-like ways, all pointed and sleek.
She feels it just as he does, the taste of something not quite normal in the air, and Kalen's excited, taking her with him as he goes, and she just tries to hang back a bit. She can do nothing without her computer after all. No seeing, no warding her mind like she'd really love to be able to do right now. Not all such impressions on the wind are good ones...
"Kalen, what is it?" is all she can do... Ask someone else. And her voice isn't excited as much as it is concerned.

carnevale
Doo de doo
Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (1, 8, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

carnevale
Mind 2: Free your mind
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (3, 9) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Alyssa Solomon
Alyssa is fortunate that she's a determined woman.  Not enough blood, perhaps, or maybe her hand shook just a bit as she traced the seals into place.  Either way, it very nearly went wrong and only her hubris (I control my fucking destiny) gave her the strength to enforce her will on reality.  And even then, it's brief.
Of course, she also sensed those Resonances she's familiar with, somewhere around here.  She knows people by Resonances almost better than their faces.  Kalen and Grace, and sensing those two near each other doesn't surprise her.  But she doesn't have time for that this moment, and the pin is pocketed with an annoyed look.  Time for the big guns, she thinks, and she reaches inside her coat to withdraw the ritual dagger that's kept at her back.  It's simple in design and yet ornate as well; it's well above the quality of the items she normally has.  Luckily, in a street party like this a dagger might not seem like anything more than a costume of some kind.  She gives a quick glance around and then braces herself before jamming the tip lightly into the back of her forearm.  The blood is quickly traced once more as she pushes her Effect to hopefully greater length.
Assuming all goes well, she's then slipping the dagger away and moving out into the crowd, to find Kalen and Grace.
[[Extending!  Using unique foci so diff 3.]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (4, 6) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

carnevale
The Awakened feel that tingle in the air and go to seek the source, but they aren't the only ones being drawn toward something.  There aren't many, the feeling isn't overpoweringly strong.  Kalen and Alyssa can tell there is nothing currently in the air acting to pull everyone together.  But there is that charge that tingles.  There is that craving, that yearning.  It's faint, but those most susceptible to it find themselves pulled toward it.
That changes soon enough.  They all feel the increase in feeling.  People crave more, yearn for more.  The charge becomes more electric.  The sense of someone whispering feels closer, the words almost but not quite understandable.  The crowd closest to the giant speakers shifts as a few more people start to find themselves wanting, no yearning to go over in that direction.
Alyssa and Kalen's resonances fill the air.  A storm coming, a flap of wings and the presence of blood that is more a sense than it is a real thing.  They notice that the Tapestry is being bent and twisted, and spheres they are only marginally familiar with are about to come into play.
[awareness 1]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )

carnevale
[awareness 2]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 6, 6, 7, 10) ( success x 4 )

carnevale
[extension #1, -1 because reasons (should have been higher diff initially but it would've been the same outcome)]
Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (5, 7, 8) ( success x 4 ) [WP]

carnevale
[extension #2]
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (4, 8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Kalen Holliday
"It's nothing but an echo yet.  Possibility!"  Because possibilities echo backward.  Of course they do.  Time is not simply some line.  Not even a complicated series of lines.  No.  Things come into being like raindrops into water, their effects spread outward in all directions.  Organic.  Whole.  Circles.  Eternity.
Perceptions...well.  Those can be limiting.  They don't have to be.
Can be.  And he remembers.
"It's-"  Transcendent.  Sacred.  Dangerous.  Indescribably beautiful.
"Going to be a wild night."  And that is...at least marginally more serious.  He pauses, releases Grace's wrist, reaches into his pocket and withdraws a closed hand.  "Shall we?"  And then he grins, unfolds his hand, and gently blows a handful of gold glitter out into the night air.  He's still watching the glitter, even as he reaches out to offer his now sparkly gloved hand to Grace.
['Oh most bewitching Cosmos...let us see where we should be going.'  Time 2/Entropy 2 - Basically find an auspicious path through the crowd. D=5 WP]
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (1, 4) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Grace
Kalen, the golden lion, says it's going to be a wild night and blows glitter into the air. She takes his hand (not something she'd do for just anybody) and lets him take her where he will (definitely not something she'd do for just anybody).
She picks up on another thing, another touch of magic in the swirl, but how could she not? This one sticks out like a sore thumb -- sore because it's just been pricked and bleeds. It's that mild sense of nausea that always  preceeds a certain someone's arrival.
"Alyssa's here," she says, loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

Alyssa Solomon
Alyssa feels that sense of craving creeping up, and she groans.  "Oh, fuckin' Hell."  She might be falling prey to it herself, if she weren't such a stubborn little shit.  She starts to make her way through the crowd, pushing people out of the way when she can't maneuver around them.  She's not starting any fights, but she's not entirely gentle either.  She doesn't have time for civility.
On the plus side, the advantage to stabbing yourself in the arm a little bit is that she still has some blood leaking out.  A little dab at each temple, below the cerebellum and just inside her hairline at the crown, connecting all of the important parts of her mind.  It's visualized as a line, keeping unwanted influences out as she spots Kalen and Grace, recognizing their forms and Kalen's willworking even if their faces are hidden.  She shoves her way through the crowd to catch up with them.
"It would be too fortunate for me to guess this is a friend of yours?"  She gestures toward the air as she completes the visualization in her mind, hopefully completing the shield on her mind.
[[Mind Shield!  Diff 4, -1 for Quint to 3, Spending WP #3]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (8, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Kalen Holliday
Kalen, with one of Grace's hands in his, guides her through the crowd.  People move and shout and even push around them, but Kalen walks into little openings and eddies that seem to rise up for him and then slide closed as they pass.  There is a passing remembrance of sliding through a crowd like this while dancing, of skin on skin and colored lights and....
"We were just on our way to find out," Kalen says.  He is glitter-smudged and breathless and smiling.  "Join us?"

Grace
"Oh Kalen seems to like it. I don't know about friend, though" Grace says, trying to avert her eyes from Alyssa. Something about knowing that the blood leaking out from behind her hairline is no costume.
"Hi. Nice, uh. Makeup."

carnevale
It's going to be a wild night.  Kalen has no idea just how right he is.  Or maybe he does.  He conjures up his own brand of magic, using the glitter to map out a trail for them to follow.  It falls in a little trail that dusts shoulders, lights on masks, catches in hair.  As they walk toward people so touched and now sparkling, those people just happen to move forward, to the side, back, wherever.  They create a path unknowingly that Grace and Kalen follow knowingly, a path that leads them to wherever it is they're wishing to go.  Toward Alyssa, maybe, or toward the source of the bending Tapestry.  Perhaps by now they're the same thing.
And somewhere in the shadow between buildings, just beyond the speakers currently blasting "Come With Me Now" by the Kongos.  How perfect.  The thumping of the beat and distance disguises voices, figures hidden in the shadows.
One says to the other, "Now."  It's 9:57, not quite time for an auspicious clocktower ringing in the 10pm end to the night's festivities.
Almost as one they release the effects they've been weaving over the crowd.  A change overtakes the crowd, subtle but noticeable.  Warmth settles in around the speakers and emanates out (I need to move I need to fight, I need to love myself tonight (You don't need those coats)), and people do indeed begin to feel warmer.  Their body temperatures begin to rise and a number of people begin to undo their coats, remove their gloves.
Fainter, but no less felt, moving, is a sense of release.  Minds easing, relaxing (Come with me now, I'm gonna take you down (Let go let loose free your mind)), and those unguarded and those most susceptible to suggestion begin to lose their sense of inhibition.  People begin to dance on the sidewalk as winter garments are discarded to the pavement, bodies gyrating to the melody, feet stomping to the beat.
And, just as Alyssa and Kalen and Grace form a little cluster of storm and blood and wings and something shifting, two figures appear at the opening between two buildings.  One, a man, tall and broad and covered in tattoos that flow down his arms and over his abdomen (shirtless? in this weather? well at least he's no longer the only one stripping down like it's a warm summer day), hair short and light.  Beside him a woman, petite, long blonde hair pulled up, wearing a white dress with a tight bodice and a single strap over one shoulder, white gloves to her elbows, lace leggings and white high heeled shoes.  They are both looking out into the crowd, but it's the man who seems to hone in on the Awakened.
[[The deets!
Warmth of the Sun (modulate internal body temperature), Life 3, 7 suxx
Free Your Mind (let go of inhibition), Mind 2, 4 suxx
With the obvious exception of Alyssa with her Mind shield, I'll leave it up to you if/how your PCs are affected by either of these rotes.]]

Grace
Grace likes the coat Kalen picked out for her, but only because it's warm and the day is cold. Even though she knows that this isn't right, that someone is making her feel this way, it wouldn't do to bake. She strips off her coat, but leaves on the turtleneck jacket underneath. For now. It's still a bit uncomfortable, but like hell she's going to take *that* off.
And then, their magics wrap around her, making even that protection seem unnecessary. Just relax, it tells her. And she does, even though a faint whisper of her own fights back, telling her that that's just what they want you to do! It's not winning.
"I'm... I'm feeling very... nice." Grace says, in a weird voice, her hand reaching up to unzip the (armored) turtleneck jacket she wears everywhere. "Why am I feeling so nice?"
She's got on a plain white tee underneath all those layers, at least. Some modesty will be preserved. But the song and the magic combined lead to Grace beginning to tap her feet. Even carrying a coat and a jacket, she wants to dance. She never wants to dance, mind you. This isn't a normal anything for her.

Alyssa Solomon
She can feel her body temprature rising, and even her Mind shield is getting battered at.  She groans, though this is a little less controlled.  She's holding, but still.  That's some mighty powerful mojo.  "Oh great.  This is how fucking orgies start."  She glances at the two.  "If this all goes south, then what happens on Santa Fe stays on Santa Fe.  And that's all I'm saying about that."
She sighs and drops the wool coat, which is now entirely too hot for this.  On the plus side, most people probably aren't paying attention to her and won't notice the gun in her belt clip or the dagger in the belt sheath.  On the negative side...she really likes that coat, and she's not going to be happy if she loses it.  Underneath the coat was a black fitted top with leather-look shoulders and a purple-trim image of a corset screened onto it, black jeans and her boots.  She squeezes and presses at the little wound, encouraging more blood to flow which she coats her fingers in.  "I can only stop part of it," she murmurs to the others as she begins tracing a seal of protection in the air.  "Somone else might wanna stop the Life work."
The next words to come out are Enochian--not perfect, but perfectly servicable--as she starts to try and undo the Mind work.
[[Countermagicking!  Diff 8, she has Mind & is throwing some Prime in there in case she has enough to turn it back on the others.  WP #4.  She's gonna have to stop spending WP very soon, but she's a stubborn one...]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN8 (4, 10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Grace
[Retract the bit about the dancing. Grace never wants to dance hah]

Kalen Holliday
Kalen laughs, rich and warm and real.
This is almost exactly what he wanted.  Warmth and a crowd that wants to shift closer to something blissful and real and full of raw, dangerous beauty.  Truths that shiver and hide beneath the skin exposed.  All of the little lies, all of the distance people lay between each other shed like so many coats dropping to the ground.  This is the kind of unity with humanity he loves.
"Are you saying, if it comes to it, you wouldn't take us home with you, Angel?"
His voice softens a little, and he leans close to speak quietly enough only Grace can hear but does not touch her.  "It's magic, Kit.  It wants you to Be.  But, you can fight it, if you want.  Alyssa can likely help you.  The only advice I give you about tonight is to hold onto the coat."  She can fight it, if she wants.  He has no such intention.

carnevale
[Watch the Weaving]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (1, 5) ( success x 1 )

Grace
"I can't. Do anything about the Life work," Grace says to Alyssa. "Someone took my tools."
It's the barest explanation. She wouldn't even know the first thing as to how to tun back someone else's magic, but if she had her computer, she might well be giving it a try.
Alyssa says this is how orgies start, and even in this relaxed-as-hell state, Grace can see the danger in that. Kalen doesn't seem worried at all. The only thing he says is that she can fight it if she wants, but could she fight a crowd? Could she fight off some random dude if he got it in his mind that what he wants is her, and has no inclination to stop himself?
Even those fears are hard to hold on to, slippery fishes in all this relaxation and warmth. Nobody will hurt her. She's got friends to look out for her. It's all cool. Even the loss of her computer, it's all perfectly okay. A lazy smile leaks out from under that fox mask.

carnevale
Magic drapes down over the crowd like a blanket.  A nice warm snuggly blanket that has more than a few people wondering why they bothered with a coat tonight.  It's not that cold, or if it is their bodies are immune to it.  So people strip down to sweaters, t-shirts, some tank tops.  One man feeling particularly free at the moment strips off his shirt, tossing it to the side as he leaps foward to throw himself into something approaching the beat of the song.  There are others with him, others dancing, some closer together than others.  A couple toward the back, admiring each other in their state of ordinary-dress, bodies no longer hidden by the covering of winter coats, hold hands and walk away together.
There are still masks worn.  A lion, a tin fox, someone's face looks like the moon, more than a few look like dolls.  The song changes to something by Airborne Toxic Event and more people start to get into the groove and dance.
And once they start, even though Alyssa begins working to undo the magic opening up the minds of all these strangers, encouraging them to cease holding back, they don't want to stop.  It's a freeing thing, liberating, dancing faceless in a small crowd, losing themselves to the magic of magic and the magic of music.
Over behind it all, the strangers watch their handiwork unfold.  The man is leaned against the corner of a wall, his head poking out, smoke curling upward from the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth.  Ash falls as he bobs his head to the music.  Beside him the woman's eyes widen.  She leans in close to the man, puts her hand on his shoulder and whispers something to him.  He looks at her, looks out at the crowd, and he nods before pushing off from the wall and moving toward the crowd.  He is tall and powerfully built, the bones of his face creating hard flat planes in his cheek and jaw.
Behind him, the woman bites her lip.
[Free Your Mind again, just hoping to maintain it.]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (6, 6) ( success x 2 )

Alyssa Solomon
Kalen's comment about not wanting to take them home does draw a wry smile from her, and she answers when she has a break in her spell.  "I'm saying, Kalen, that it's probably for your own good.  You couldn't handle me, and it's a long walk back to your place from mine.  Probably not best in this level of cold."
Grace says she can't help, and Kalen doesn't want to.  And as much as she feels the effect start to ebb, it's pushed back up.  "Oh, for fuck's sake," she mutters as her efforts are undone. She stops her unweaving and, as she sees the man starting to come her way, she starts to close the distance, walking with purpose.  One bloody angel, striding forth.
"Seriously tall, dark and short-sighted," she calls out as she approaches.  "I promise you...right about now, you really don't want me to stop holding back from what my id is telling me to do."

carnevale
Alyssa walks with purpose, but the man meets her at a leisurely stroll.  Once he's out in the brighter light of the street they can see the way the cold air of the night rolls up from his body, coiling as steam less distinct than the smoke trail the bright red cherry of his cigarette leaves in his wake.
He stops, clasps his hands behind his back, and leans toward her as if daring her.  The smile he offers is devilish, the smile of a rake, a dandy, someone with perhaps more confidence in themselves than they probably should.  As he draws closer Alyssa feels that charge tingling through her skin, and she hears the sound of whispers rattling on the wind.
"And I assure you," he counters, "that I absolutely do."  His eyes lift to her hairline like maybe he can see a physical manifestation of her shield.  He can't, but he knows that it's there, and he tips his head curiously before looking down at her her again.
"You shield yourself from letting go, and that's one thing.  But I wonder do you shield yourself from all of life's pleasures, too?"
Behind him, the woman does not increase her efforts to empower her effect, but she watches, leaned against the wall her partner left.

Kalen Holliday
Kalen moves toward the man as well.  He is potentially a threat.  His place is between that threat and his friends.
He slides his gloves off and into the pockets of his coat, then the coat off and over his arm.  He's wearing loose silk pants and a shirt so sheer that you can catch glimpses of scars through it.
His pulse is the backbone of the song, is united with the pulse of the crowd.  Their fates tonight are unfolding like a lotus blossom.  One flower.  Many petals.  One shared destiny of infinite possibility.  If only Alyssa and Grace could see what he did.
There is nothing about his posture that indicates he intends to confront instead of greet.
They could all touch the world he'd build instead of fight the world they have tonight.  The chance is right fucking there, shimmering and perfect and barely brushable with his fingertips.
Grace
Grace tags along, because of course she doesn't want to be alone, wants to be with friends. She keeps a hold on the coat, though.
And what does Grace's id very much want to do right now? What is it that she holds back from doing?
She walks right up to the man with the tattoo, the one with a purr for a voice, and says, "I feel really good. Did you do that? How did you do that? It's all in the local field potentials yes? I do feel some moderate excitation. Do you know what I mean by local field potentials? Please say yes. What's your name?"
Apparently, Grace wants to ask all the questions ever. She wants to know.

carnevale
Kalen comes up with Grace in tow.  The man's eyes shift to look at them, acknowledge their existence with a nod, but his face remains turned toward Alyssa.  And he looks curious as he looks at her, wondering what her answer will be, or if she'll try to sock him in the jaw.  Maybe she'll pull that gun with a crowd of people so close.  The dagger would be more intimate.
His smile turns into a grin at Grace's questions, but he gives a slight shake of his head.  He doesn't know what that means.  He can guess, but, "My magic doesn't work like that."  Not in scientific terms.
"My name is Basil Jardine."  That rumbling purr of a voice doesn't carry an accent to go with a name that sounds like it originated in Spain or France, but then Alyssa doesn't sound like she comes from the Middle East and Grace doesn't sound Welsh.
His eyes are back on Alyssa.

Alyssa Solomon
The man asks her if she shields herself from all pleasures in life, and she can't help but quirk a grin as she looks up at him.  "You know, that's an interesting debate.  The difference is that I find those pleasures, I don't have someone else mucking around in my head."
The grin is fading quickly now.  "Just because you're not pouring something into the punch bowl doesn't mean you're not roofying the lot of these people.  And if someone decides that going out to drive while having seven too many is fine, that's on you.  What if someone really wants to see what it's like to shoot heroin even though they have no idea how to do it, and end up dead?  And that's just the start of the kind of consent issues you're causing.  No means fucking no, asshole."
She doesn't seem too concerned about the height difference between them; her irritation and ego are enough to make her feel at least his height, no matter if she's actually at eye level or not.  "So put a stop to this.  Now."

carnevale
"You're very cynical," he says, amused as he stands upright.  Twisting back he holds out his hand to the woman in white.  "Come on, Rose, they're not going to hurt us."
The woman comes closer now and they can see as she steps from the relative safety of the sort-of alley that her dress comes with a train of lace that drags along the pavement.  Its ends are greyish and brown and littered with leaves and scraps of things.
"Look around," he says.  "No one is doing anything they don't want to do tonight.  If it will soothe your concern for others," he all but purrs, is that mockery?  "once they're outside the range they'll no longer be under the effects."

Kalen Holliday
Kalen shifts closer.  He can't really physically interpose himself between the two without getting dramatic.  And whether those dramatics were practically violent or involved trying to slip his tongue in Basil's mouth, neither of those would bring about what he most desires at the moment.  (Though, let us not lie, upon reflection both would be practically violent.)
Instead he rests one hand against Basil's arm (or tries).  It is not really a friendly touch.  The world is electricity and danger and a storm about to break.  It is not, in this instant, friendly or gentle.  Sure, it could have been.  Or it could have been for balance, but you need trust for that.  Truthfully, he wants to read the what the man will do before he does it.  Wants to be close enough to get between them if they start fighting.
"Angel...no one is hurt here.  But you're right about what might happen.  But thing about what happens if we turn this to violence now.  Think about what happens if you turn their thoughts from dancing to blood.  Do not do something we will regret here."

Grace
"Oh, that's so sad, Basil," she replies to his statement that he doesn't work like that. Sad for her, perhaps, that she can't sit down and discuss the finer points of holonomic brain theory with *anyone* tonight.
Or maybe she means sad for him, that he will never understand it. Who knows. Maybe both.
Alyssa speaks of consent, and she has a point. Kalen speaks of a riot starting should these people change their minds in just the slightest, and he has a point. Grace has seen that before.
"Oh yeah, like at the theater... We don't want that. They wouldn't do something like that, would they?" she says, half to her friends, half to Basil and Rose.
"Your names are both plants. That's cool! Did you know that plants think using quantum calculations?"

Alyssa Solomon
Come on Rose, they're not going to hurt us, he says.  He also says that no one is doing anything they don't want to.  And she could argue that it's not a matter of people doing what they want to, it's a matter of those having things done to them that they don't want to.  She could argue that whatever's happening here, they don't know what's going on in side alleys, or behind walls where the effect might extend to and where they can't see, or so on.  She could even argue that they need to have a lesson taught, here and now, or they'll do it again and again and eventually someone will be hurt, and probably badly.
Kalen's argument about blood turning this into a big, violent mess does cause her to look over at him.  It flickers back and forth in her mind, before she decides.
And that's when the steel-toed boot is flying up, toward Basil's crotch.  The only blood there, if any, will be internal, she hopes.

Alyssa Solomon
[[Init +7]
Dice: 1 d10 TN8 (5) ( fail )

Kalen Holliday
[Init +5]
Dice: 1 d10 TN5 (10) ( success x 1 )

carnevale
Basil:  +5
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (1) ( fail )

carnevale
Rose: +5
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (2) ( fail )

Grace
[init +6]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (9) ( success x 1 )

carnevale
Round One: FIGHT
Grace 15
Kalen 15
Alyssa 12
Rose 7
Basil 6
Declare in reverse, roll the other way
Basil:  Dodge!
Rose:  Mind 2: Crowd Control

Alyssa Solomon
[[1: Kick Basil SQUAW IN DE NUTS.  Cause de nuts is where it hurts]]

Kalen Holliday
[Step in front of Basil with lovely force effect to use heavy coat to block kick.  We hope.]

Grace
[Hide! Disappear! Go away!]

Alyssa Solomon
[[Kick.  Diff is 7]]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
[Forces 2: Protective coat flourish - WP]
Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (4, 5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

carnevale
[Blocked!  Still could probably use that Crowd Control.]
Rose does not step in to help the taller man.  What she does is focus on the crowd.  There are safeguards in place to keep things from turning violent in one way or another, but that was before someone tried to kick someone else in public.
One rote gets dropped in favor of another.  Calm.  Soothe.  Everyone be peaceful.  Think happy thoughts!  That sort of thing.
Mind 2
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (1, 5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

carnevale
[And Basil is still getting out of range, dex+ath (fluidly moving)]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 7, 10) ( success x 3 ) Re-rolls: 1

carnevale
Grace and Kalen are enjoying themselves, but if Alyssa is going to insist on her own conclusions she's going to find herself mocked.  Basil doesn't have a chance to answer Grace's question, which would be no actually, they didn't know that.
What happens instead is Alyssa aims a booted foot for Basil's groin while Grace goes to make herself scarce.  Kalen blocks the kick, but Basil still dances backwards, out of the way, because
"Are you always such a buzzkill, Angel?"
"Bey!"  This is the first that the others have heard the woman speak.  She turns her head to glare at him.  "Stop making it worse!"
The music plays on but the dancing stops as the crowd begins to calm down.  They lose interest in dancing as a peace begins to settle over them, at least over any who saw the violence and felt a spark.  Everyone else dances to the end of the song before they start to look for their coats, their gloves, their things.  A few people push their masks up as they start to walk away, talking in excited but breathless tones.
Rose continues to keep the people calm.
[Extending once (I keep messing up the level 2 diffs!)]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (3, 8) ( success x 1 )

Kalen Holliday
Kalen raises two fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighs.  The crowd is dissolving and the music will fade and their glorious chance to commune with some greater unified purpose is melting into nothingness like smoke rings.  At least, for now, the cold is still held mercifully at bay.
"I know that of all the people to be making the request that we talk about this before we start hitting each other I am in some respects the least likely candidate, but would it be possible to try to do this in a non-violent fashion?  Please?
"And then we can escalate to violence and blood feuds and whatever else if we must?"

Grace
Grace's first response when things start going south is to disappear. She takes off her mask (too noticeable) and slips into the crowd of oblivious, peaceful people.
She's still *around*, but her presence fades as quickly as she does from sight. Eventually, she decides it's safer to be away from other people right now, and goes for the protection of a little shop along the street advertising financial services. Apparently nobody really had the inclination to check on their retirement accounts all the sudden, thanks to Rose (What I've always wanted to do! Set up a Roth IRA!), so it's practically dead.
Still, from where she is, she can at least see what's going on. Notices that Kalen intervened, and the other two don't seem like they're interested in fighting back. Good.
Grace will just stay put for now though. Just in case.

Alyssa Solomon
Alyssa expected several possibilities.  She expected to perhaps be dodged or blocked, and to have Basil kick her ass.  She expected violence to maybe sprout up.  She expected Basil's friend to hop in and for her to have to fight a two-on-one battle.
She did NOT expect Kalen to get involved.  And she especially did not expect him to get involved for Basil's side.  There's a moment where she pauses there, completely stunned by that.  And the look hardens, eyes narrowing to a glare, which itself becomes a look of death shot toward Basil when he keeps it up, turning Kalen's cute little nickname into a mocking term.
"You know what, fuck this.  One way or another, my job is done here.  If you pick it back up or whetever, I did my part."  She points at Basil, looking like she really, really wants to jab that finger right through his eyesocket.  "You'd best keep the hell out of my way.  Hufflepuff here may not save your balls next time, and I may not use my boots."
And another, withering look at Kalen, before she starts to stalk off, back toward where she hopes her coat still is.

carnevale
For what it's worth, Basil did stop trying to provoke Alyssa after Rose spoke up.  He smiles at the Hollower, biceps bulging as he crosses his arms over his chest.  That look continues to be an invitation.  He really does want for her to follow her passion, even if it leads to her trying to claw out his eyes.  But she doesn't intend to stick around any longer and he doesn't stop her.
What he does is call after her back, "I look forward to it!"  Rose gives him look and he shoots one back, innocent and wide-eyed, What?
"Thanks, man," he says to Kalen.  "I'm s--"
"We wouldn't have let anything bad happen," Rose snaps in, defensive.  Of the two she is the younger, but they share a certain look about them.  Same nose, same cheekbones.  "We just--"
But Basil puts his hand on her shoulder and she quiets as she loses some of that tension.  He looks around, remembering something.  "Did we scare away your other friend, too?"

Kalen Holliday
He winces a little at the glare.  That will be an interesting conversation later.
His expression relaxes a little as Basil starts talking and then his attention snaps to Rose and now that he isn't trying to have some transcendent moment of harmony with a jubilant crowd that defensiveness sets him just a bit on edge.  Basil stops her and then asks about Grace and for a second the strain of trying to both prepare for and stop a fight that mostly lost its traction when Alyssa started walking away holds him still and silent.  Living in the moment is glorious, but there are so many possible moments this one could be it is dizzying.
"She might be back.  I doubt she'd have abandoned me entirely.  I'm not sure when she'll decide to come out though.  She's generally cautious, but sometimes she surprises me."

carnevale
Grace is cautious, Alyssa is a cynic.  But Kalen, Kalen seems cool, even through that moment of edginess.  Basil looks him over, really looks him over.  Alyssa resisted, Grace let go, but it was the Hermetic who seemed to really be in the moment with them.  He's the one who seemed to feel the beat wash over and through him.  Rose catches the look and she rolls her eyes dramatically before shoving him hard in the arm.
"I want eggs."  And with that she starts walking away, but she stops short.  Looking around, if she sees Alyssa (with her coat, the Santa Fe crowd is not overly full of greedy people looking to take things that aren't theirs) she starts walking away in the other direction.
"It looks like I'm going to get eggs," Basil announces to Kalen.  He tips his chin down, lifting his brows as he starts to go.  Not before a card is exchanged, which Basil looks over and grins that rouge's grin.  Tapping its corner against his temple he flicks a salute.  "I'll be seeing you around," he promises.
Then he starts off after Rose at last.  When he reaches her he drapes a heavy arm over her nearly bare shoulders.  She turns her head to look up at him, and whatever she says causes him to laugh, and then look thoughtful.  With a last glance back over his shoulder to the dispersing crowd, he releases his own effect.
Suddenly a whole bunch of people start digging frantically for their coats.