Coat of Many RGBs

Kalen Holliday
[How awake are we?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (3, 4, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Danny
(awareness)

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 7, 7, 8, 8) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
[And how distracted by Resonance are we?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7, 9) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
Even on nights Kalen gets relatively more sleep, he does not sleep well.  Danny falls asleep, and Kalen covers him with a blanket as one does and settles down to watch him.  Which involves mostly reading, but eventually Kalen does also sleep.  It would be possible to attribute Kalen's dreams to a lot of things, not the least of which is the kinds of research he tends to be doing.

He is restless asleep.  Twitching.  Murmuring.  Even on nights that are, for him, relatively calm.

Danny's exhaustion spares him seeing that.  Because Kalen doesn't tend to sleep for long.  Why would he want to?

No, by the time Danny is awake, Kalen has made coffee and there is a mug of it on the table and a carafe of more of it on the table and the box of pastries.  He's reading again, this time the paper, and entering notes onto his laptop occasionally.

Danny
*The blanket got pulled up higher, movement was selfish when he first woke up as if he needed to try and get his head together.*

Time... Oh... *He went through moments like this when he first woke up.  Habit made him ask the time, then that innate knowledge provided  him with the answer. There's a shift of movement as he turns a bit, then slowly pulls down the blanket a bit and peers at Kalen.*

Hey....  *Now he was a bit more like his old self, that half smile appearing on his face as he turned his head again to look at Kalen a bit more, then carefully reached out to pick up the coffee and test it's temperature. If it wasn't too hot, it was going down in two or three goes. But all of it was going down.* You sleep okay?

Kalen Holliday
The coffee is still pretty warm, but not scalding, and Kalen smiles a little.  Danny gets to steal his coffee.  Hell, it's kind of cute.  Said coffee is straight black this morning, because it is on some mornings but not others.

"Well enough," Kalen says.  "You?  You look a bit better."

Danny
*Down it went, gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp.... gone.... The cup was placed back on the table and he shifted again moving the cushion to make himself more comfortable.* Yeah... I am so sorry about last night... I just... I guess I hit my shut off point.  I don't remember much after hot chocolate on the mountain and talking....

*Talking? It was like being slowly immersed into the hot chocolate, one slow steady inch at a time.  He vaguely remembered getting back into the car, then nothing til he was moving towards Kalen's place in that half sleeping dream state.*  I felt like something came along and laid a carpet on my tongue... but now I feel better.

Kalen Holliday
"That may have been induced by the fact that I was petting you and trying to get you to go to sleep.  You were a bit out it.  A bit."

Kalen sets the book down and refills the mug with coffee that is steaming.  He then regards the coffee for a few seconds, all calculating.  "I am very tempted to dissolve one of the hazelnut marshmallows in there....."

Danny
Do it... *He grins and keeps watching Kalen with those mahogany reds, they were less tired, his skin less paper.*  Go on do it... it'll be sooo good... you know you want to...

*He chuckled softly.* It'll be sinfully good, I double dog dare ya!!

Kalen Holliday
Kalen pulls the bag of marshmallows out of the pastry box and drops one of the hazelnut marshmallows into the coffee.  "There.  By the time that is drinkable it will also be hazelnut.  Though I suppose we should wait until we taste it to officially declare victory."

Danny
*He grinned, waiting. then reached out one finger to prod it down into the water and coffee more.* Oh god this is going to be good..... You got straws?  Or we doing hazlenut coffee shots?

Kalen Holliday
"I thought we would just drink it like normal people....?"

Danny
*One hand reached to take another marshmallow to just pop it into his mouth, he didn't bother to sniff it, he just popped it in there and smiled, letting that melt on his tongue too. then he chuckled a little at Kalen's words.* Sure we can do that. But there's only one cup Kalen.... *he smirked.*

Grace
[Awareness!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 9) ( success x 1 )

Kalen Holliday
"Well, that was, admittedly, poor planning on my part.  I'm not used to sleepovers anymore."  Kalen rolls his eyes and sets the paper down.  "It's not as though I date or anything."  And then, as though he did not just half bring that up, he picks up a marshmallow and nips it in half.

Danny
*There the chuckle went again, he finally took the time to chew down the marshmallow before he spoke again.* So yeah....  Do we have to wait for it to be fully dissolved? *Ahh, bless the young cultist and his gimme the pleasure now cravings.*

Kalen Holliday
Again with the rolling eyes, now accompanied by a tiny amused huff.  "Only if you prefer your tongue unblistered."

Danny
*He even made this little sound of discontent at that and frowned, then pouted slightly as he stared intently at the coffee.* This is going to be good, it'll be worth the wait, right? *this hadn't featured in his plans.... that was right, think about the sensation, not the facts... bloody cultists.*

Grace
Grace enters the library adorned. She's in jeans and sneakers as per usual, but then what on earth is going on with that (nice, sharp) red coat she's wearing over that? There's lights along the sleeves, running up her shoulders and following the lines of the thing down to buttons that also shine with LED rainbows. It's entirely garish, a mix of something that used to be somewhat stylish, and has now seemingly run afoul of a Christmas tree. But Grace is smiling.

"Oh, hi Danny! Kalen! My thing! It works!" she says, and fiddles with something in her hand. The suit's lights shift, the colors sliding up and down in lines.

"These light strips are awesome. I can make them do anything. We can split people into teams of like, blue and red or something? The lights in this thing are fully programmable."

Kalen Holliday
"Good morning, Kit.  Coffee?

"Also, I see your coat is now a light up coat.  I approve."

Danny
*Lights. Lights... His eyes lifted to Grace and he blinked at the sight.* Oh... My.... God.... That is in fucking credible!! *He was just in awe of it.* That would look totally bitching in a military cut with the whole band wearing one sleeve done up like that.

*Did he appreciate it? Judging by the look of suprise, then acute pleasure on his face along with a dire case of the gimme gimme's.* Bright blue!! Make em go bright blue!!

*Danny was on the couch, the one that Kalen slept on, laid out with a blanket on him and while he sure as shit looked better than he had twelve hours ago, he still looked a bit drawn and tired. Now it was of course replaced by the "new toy" syndrome he had, the one that screamed loudly and ran around the room making baboon noises with it's hands in the air clamoring for the new coat, or one just like that...

Another distraction was just there for Danny, blossoming to life right before Kalen's eyes.*

Grace
"Oh, more than that. I can program it so that when the coat gets shot, it lights up like..." she fiddles with the thing in her hand again, and the coat blinks off and on. From somewhere near the neck, a buzzing sound arises.

"Okay. Okay. Blue... Right."

The coat's light-up strips seem to blend smoothly from whatever rainbow configuration they were just in, to a dark blue. Then, Grace fiddles with the controls some more, brightening them into something more resembling sky.

"We're going to have these all made up in time for Halloween, Danny. It's for the laser tag," she says, gleeful, and strides into the room in all her sky-blue-on-red magnificence.

"I could so use some coffee. Or just a nap. I was kind of working on this for... a while."

She sniffs the air. Oh, caffeine! Of course Kalen would already be working on it.

Kalen Holliday
"Yeah.  I totally have two of you now.  And Elijah.  But as long as there is food in his presence and it has an appreciable sugar content, no one needs to force him to eat."  Kalen sighs and nudges the box of pastries toward Grace.  "Eat something.  Both of you."  And again with the eye-rolling.

Danny
Awww shiiiiiit.... *he was just fascinated.* That is totally totally fucking hard core bitching!

*His hand made its way towards the box then he glanced at it to make sure and took another marshmallow.* I have GOT to have one..  Grace, you are just a legend... I swear to god, I love that colour!! *The marshmallow vanishes into his mouth and he chews it still completely enamoured by the coat. Then smiled at Kalen.* Isn't it great? That dark powder blue just before it went intense? That's the sky... that's my sky.

Grace
"Oh, whatever, Kalen. I ate. Just not when sewing stuff on the coat because it would get all full of food," Grace says, and rolls her eyes right back.

But she's obviously not going to turn down the pastries either. Nope, she goes straight for them, picking out something sugary, before carefully taking a seat in the chair she tends to prefer. She doesn't want to disrupt the awesome coat. She doesn't have everything firmly stuck in place yet.

She just beams a smile at Danny, at his over-the-top self. He is a fan. It's nice to have fans, isn't it?

Kalen Holliday
"Mmmmmmmmmm...it is a lovely color," Kalen murmurs.  "Possibly not on that red, but...we could definitely make something."  He studies the colors.  "I want...maybe like a purple that is almost white."

He picks up the coffee and takes a cautious sip, then another less tentative one.  "Victory."  He holds the mug out to Danny.

Danny
*There's a gasp as he realises the coffee was made... then sat up enough to be able to safely take a sip and the delight was there.* Oh dear god that is sublime! *he laughs, but is careful to put the cup back before he reaches for another marshmallow and turns his attention to Grace.*

There should be an option for black light, or gold... or... or something.... I dunno, can you make the lights run? Make them track and race or something? *He nodded to Kalen's words and the colour.* Yeah, that'd look good. That'd look so so good.

Grace
Track and race? Track and... Oh, yes. We can do this. There is a setting for that isn't there?

"I had to actually work with it to keep them from doing that. The strip is set up to do that from the factory. Let's see..." she says, looks down at the controller in her hand, fiddles with its switches.

Mind you, now that people can get a good look at it, the controller looks like raw circuitboard with wires that extend into her coat. It's as yet uncased. The switches and sliders she's using are somewhat hidden in all the wired mess.

"I don't think it can do blacklight. I can get you deep violet, but ultraviolet... Maybe if I messed with it? But these are RGB. I can get you..."

The coat's lights shift color again from sky blue to orange. No. Not correct, Grace. Orange to purple. Purple to the lightest lilac. Almost white.

And then, the thing starts to slowly drip, parts fading into blackout, and that black sliding down her arms, only to be replaced again with lilac brightness. Waves of light, sine-wise, sliding.

Kalen Holliday
"Mmmmmmmm...."  Kalen smiles.  "I like that.  I will find you a coat for it.  It will be fantastic.  Do they need to be permanently attached?"  He is clearly considering how crazy to make this coat.  Because it may or may not need to be bulletproof.

"I guess they could always just be turned off."

Danny
*His jaw dropped seeing that colour, the delight of someone just in awe. It was a good thing he didn't have that cup in his hands, he might've ended up wearing it as he clapped and laughed in delight again, then half whispered, half breathed out the word reverently.* Bitching!!

A black russian great coat... *He nods to Kalen's words.* Thick wool.   It'll hold the lighting better.  Oh... my... god... that is just... Outstanding... Bravo! *He was applauding Grace again.*

Grace
Now, it's becoming a bit humorous. Grace actually laughs at Danny's own glee.

"They could be affixed with Velcro or magnets or something, but then what are you going to do with the wires? Most of the sewing in this was just getting the wires on the underside to cooperate.

I could do even more fancy and go wireless, I suppose. But that would be expensive. And a bit more fiddly."

She finally realizes that she also has a pastry in hand. Ah yes. Food. It gets munched upon.

Kalen Holliday
"Yeah.  I suppose I could turn them off.  Or just accept that I cannot also use a light-up neon coat for monster hunting."

He pauses and then grins.  "Unless.  You know.  Bait.

"So...definitely with the armor then."

Danny
*Well, he'd achieved what he wanted. Grace was laughing as well... and it felt better he had to admit. He sagged a little against the couch again and waited for Kalen to have another go at the coffee before he would take another shot for himself.* Remove the lining, sew the wires in, then kevlar, then finally return the lining.

Grace
[For the newcomers, Grace is using this stuff: http://www.adafruit.com/products/1507 to light up her coat, and yes it can do all that stuff! :D]

Grace
"Armored coat with lights? For monster hunting? That could be interesting. And you could say, turn the lights off and project light elsewhere to make it look like you're somewhere else. But yeah, I am going to need a sewing machine, because ugh. Sewing sucks. I can only imagine how much more it would suck to sew through an armored coat."

There is coffee here too, so Grace stuffs the rest of the pastry in her mouth at that point, and goes for a mug. The mug gets filled with whatever blend Kalen has going on, and oh -- hey. Hazelnut marshmallows? Yeah, that goes in too.

Kalen Holliday
"It might make more sense to add the armor part after the wires?"  Kalen yawns, takes a drink of coffee, and then nudges the coffee back at Danny.  "I don't know.  We're way past things I know anything about.  I just thing a gadget spy coat you made would be amazing.  So...you know...."

Danny
There are stage and costume designers that do this sort of thing professionally. *He nodded to Kalen then to Grace as he took his turn at the cup.* Kevlar is designed to bounce knives and bullets. Have it cut to fit the shape and form of the coat covering key points... .heart, kidneys, liver... *he shrugged.* Back? If I were to try and shoot someone, bearing in mind I've no idea how to use a gun.... *He adds quickly.* I'd shoot at the biggest part of them. More likely to hit.

In some of the shows I've done we've had some of those steam punk kids in? See what they're wearing and custom around it? It'll be a good cover. *He looks to the pair of them one at a time hoping he didn't get it wrong.*

Grace
Grace is still swimming in undulating lilac lights, but she doesn't seem to be aware of that anymore. There's coffee to stir, and a pastry to eat without the aid of hands. She tilts her head up to let gravity assist in the eating process.

And chews.

"Wah pash anyfing I know abou hoo," Grace says. Mouth stuffed full of pastry. This is how much she cares about decorum. "I know jak abou ar-or coats."

Kalen Holliday
"There are also people who make armored coats professionally.  Their numbers are in my phone.  I know a few of them on a first name basis.  And...you're close-ish on that guess, but you left out a few key spots that'll bleed you out in-"  His tone, right up until he realizes what he is saying to Danny and not Alexander or someone at least used to violence and stops is all relaxed and casual.

"And, in a general sense, yes.  You aim for the torso.  Provided you're fighting something human, that's a solid bet.  Most things, really.  There are a handful of exceptions.  But, as a rule, if you get a few clean shots into something's torso and it doesn't stop you need to set it on fire.  Preferably sacred, mystical fire.  Or run.

"Or both.  I would highly recommend both, actually.  And if you can trap it in a burning building as you jump out a window...pretty good as plans go."

Danny
*It was interesting watching the way his face changes at Grace's words. his head tilts slightly to the side and he even squints a little as he tries to figure out what the hell she just said, even his lips move to mouth out the words silently.* OH!! Right.

*Then Kalen was talking and the more he said, the more he stared at him with a deepening respect. Nodding more as if it made sense, and less than he understood it. But something about the last of it seems to be a little too blase, or perhaps a bit too coincidental.* It sounds like uh...  I've got a lot to learn?

Grace
"I usually just go with the run away and hide tactic. It's a good one. Well, run away, hide, track down, gather all the information about, and then hand it over to the people with guns tactic," Grace says, and blows on her coffee to take a sip.

But there might be a bit of darkness in the way her eyes look right at the moment. Usually. She usually goes with that.

Kalen Holliday
"Well, honestly...let's just hope this reality doesn't get overrun by zombies.  Been there, done that in another one for awhile and...."  Kalen looks away from them.

"I don't think anyone could have been ready for that."

Danny
*Well what reply was there to that? Huh? What sane person could actually bring an answer to that? He fishes around for his jacket that was on the floor and brings out a small hipflask to offer it to Kalen then to Grace.* I guess I should probably join a shooting club or something, right?

Grace
"No. I don't think so. But Kalen, remember, that was Bastion just deciding that the world you were on should be overrun with zombies. It just was that way because she wanted it."

Grace sighs, looks to Danny, the poor kid who doesn't know what either of them are talking about, unless Kalen has talked.

"We kind of ended up in another reality a few months ago. An attempt by my people at Reality 2.0. Until the cabal that made it all got slaughtered by Technocrats, and the place ended up going berzerk. There were many worlds, many different... scenarios? I guess? And Kalen ended up trapped in Zombieland."

Kalen Holliday
"Yeah.  Something like that."  Kalen sighs.  "Zombies suck."

Danny
And here was I thinking that Vampires sucked... *He tried to bring some humour to it, setting the hip flask on the table instead. Then frowned a bit, conversations between he and Kalen were going to remain discretions, regardless of if Kalen ever chose to take him on a date or not.*

Okay... so... truth time...  Zombies, real honest to god walking dead zombies exist... Vampires exist... what about Werewolves and do they hate silver?

Danny
(aww thanks Library, there are times when I love you too)

Grace
Grace's eyes roll up to the ceiling and stay there. "Honestly? At this point? I would say that you don't even have to ask the question. Does something exist? Yes. Almost invariably, yes. I don't know anything about werewolves, but I would not be surprised about their existence. Hell, probably even werehamsters exist. Werebarnacles?"

She shrugs at the ceiling.

Kalen Holliday
"Silver, as I am given to understand, yes.

"Perhaps more important now...vampires, yes.  Fire hurts them.  Enchanted weapons.  Guns if you must.  Once they seem dead...light them on fire.  Hitting them with your fists or other random objects...not helpful.

"Alternately just avoid the Black Orchid."

Danny
*He narrowed his eyes at Grace then poked his tongue out at her, childish, but it made him feel better.* Hey, I'm allowed to ask!!

*Then Kalen spoke and he nodded listening.* Fire... okay... So how do I enchant a gun? I got told about forces, can you I dunno, do something to the bullets or is it the weapon itself? *He looks again to both of them. Sitting up and curling his feet under him.*

Grace
"I don't know about enchanting. I know how I could shove some disrupting potential into some bullets or whatever. See, it's like, you know about quintessence, right?"

Grace doesn't wait to hear if Danny knows or doesn't know about quintessence. She just keeps going.

"Well, it's a kind of potential energy. It's like, behind the scenes, if I instantiate an object into reality, I have to allocate some space for it, some quintessence. It can become anything. Which means, conversely, that it can store anything too -- take anything out of reality. The memory block taken up by the quint is where that previously instantiated object goes. So you set some aside, and tell it to start sucking up objects, and voila. You've got some bullets that can rip holes in things."

Kalen Holliday
Kalen rises from his chair and settles over the couch where Danny is, draped half over his lap like a lazy cat.  "It's...complicated.  Not horribly so, but there are a number of ways to do it.  You can make bullets more likely to strike a weak point, you can cause the bullets to explode or incinerate on impact, you can sort of make them aware of their nature so that they become more like the Platonic ideal of bullets.  It depends on what your skills are and what you need.

"You don't have to fight monsters though.  You should learn some tricks, because they may, someday, decide to fight you.  But your life can be so many things that aren't this.  And maybe it should be."

Danny
*His eyebrows shoot up hearing that.* So it wasn't bullshit? There really are bullets that can rip holes in... anything?  *This was a bit mindblowing for him again and he looks to Kalen for his input.

Then he nodded to Kalens words.* Yeah... maybe...  but it can't hurt to know that something exists, right?  Just in case?

*He was comfortable with Kalen like that, one hand moving to rest on him and gently idly strokes his hair, a fond smile moving onto his face.* Trying to distract me with being cute huh? It's working.

Grace
Oh, Danny. Where have you been that you didn't need to know all of this? Perhaps it would have been better if you'd stayed there, Grace is thinking. But then, she looks. She sees Kalen lying on him, watches Danny stroke his hair.

Well, huh.

She sips coffee. It's cooling, now. It's entangling itself with the rest of the room, sharing its information. Making it just right to share some information with Grace. The taste of hazelnut. The code of caffeine molecules. Like Kalen and Danny are, over there, entangling themselves in one another.

But who's going to unload entropy onto whom? Who's going to be the repository for all that information? Some of it, not so nice? But still -- without that...

"There's nothing wrong about being prepared just in case. I mean, that's part of what the laser tag stuff is all about. We're going to set up a training room. For practice."

Kalen Holliday
"No," Kalen says, very softly.  "I'm not trying to distract you.  It won't hurt you to know these things at all in theory.  You probably should learn to use a gun.  You probably should come to laser tag and to other random obstacle courses that we do as fun training things.

"But one day it will get less theoretical.  You'll learn what it feels like to have your soul mostly devoured by shadows from some evil Umbrood's madness and horror spirit realm.  Or you'll learn what it's like to do the kinds of terrible things that were logic exercises once.  You'll be thirty fucking seconds too late to stop a boy from being bitten by zombies and you'll spend the night with him and you'll get to know him and then at some point you'll have to make the choice that the amount of suffering he has to endure isn't worth another breath and you will shoot him in the head.

"This is why we don't talk about the zombie apocalypse, Kit, in case you've ever wondered.

"Or some other equally horrible thing.  And you'll feel like you should have been prepared but there are things you can't be ready for.  And...there is a very delicate balance between being prepared in case and finding that you are best prepared and so feel compelled to act.

"How much do you really want to know?"

Danny
Hey, I could go for some of that. could be a laugh. Mostly at my expense probably but it's worth a shot, right?

*He was just comfortable, his fingers idly working through Kalens hair with one hand and the other lightly stroking behind his ear. Frowning as he hears more and more from Kalen.* I... don't know. Enough to keep me safe. Has all my moving around actually helped me then? Kept me relatively safe compared to the rest of you?

Grace
Grace looks over to Kalen, sad eyes, oh yes. But she's also rimmed in lilac lights. It almost seems to clash emotionally as much as it does fashionably.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm sorry we weren't quick enough."

Kalen Holliday
"It wasn't your fault.  It was some horrible nightmare reality.  And hey, the lovely starlight being did apologize.  I'm not even entirely sure he was even real anywhere.  Certainly not here.  Maybe he's off in some awesome unicorns and rainbows world now, instead of trapped alone in a house in a doomed world.

"Real or not, that whole reality was devoured by emptiness anyway.  It hardly matters now."  He sighs and his eyes close for a few seconds.

"I don't know.  Nowhere I've been has exactly been easy, but Denver is...Denver.  I'm not sure everywhere is quite this kind of roller coaster.  It may have been just a thing about power.  I may have noticed less when I had less of it.  Which says rather depressing things about ever gaining more."

Danny
*As to Kalen's grief and pain? He didn't offer platitudes or emotional band-aids to fix the already healing scar, instead he just absorbed his words. Accepted them, kept himself there by Kalen's side and his hands kept on moving. Apart from a thin tightening of his lips he didn't stop what he was doing. Grace apologises and he watches her for a moment, then dropped them back to watching Kalens face.*

Well, at least there's a line being drawn in the sand.  That matters a helluvalot more than ignoring all the problems and papering over the cracks in the hope that everything goes away.

Grace
Grace stays silent about whether she believes that place they went to was real. Of course it was. Just as real as this library, as these people in it, in any case. Theirs was a simulation of a reality, and so is this one.

"Denver is Denver. Like a hellhole is a hellhole?" Grace smirks, but the humor doesn't reach the eyes. "I know it wasn't my fault or anything. I can still be sorry. It's not like nothing ever happened to our team during that whole ordeal either, but nothing like that."

Kalen Holliday
"I think, out of everyone, I might be most worried about Sid.  Not, you know, that we're speaking."  He frowns a little.  "I mean, I got back and I was kind of messed up, but there were people.  Sid...I don't really even know.  I've seen Ian.  And Lena.

"I almost never saw Patience, but I think she's seen a lot.  I don't worry about her the same way."  He sighs.

"Anyway, the point is that we'll train you.  But just...know that the application of most of this, even if you know it, is still messy."

Danny
*He yawned, inhaling sharply. It was one of those almost dislocate your jaw type of yawns, grabbing another cushion from the other end he props it under him and shares the blanket with Kalen, then rests his head on the cushion as well, his hands then go back to what they were doing.*

Danny
*He nods.* Yeah.... *Then another yawn comes and without realising it, his hands were slowing, getting heavier as were his eyelids.

Well, he had warned Kalen, he'd sleep, eat then sleep properly... and well, he'd slept and eaten, not much granted but he'd eaten something...*

Grace
"Sid. I haven't seen her in forever," Grace says, eyes wandering to Danny. Sleep.

Oh, she should probably stop shining like a purple neon sign shouldn't she? Let him get some shut eye? She takes the controller in hand and turns her coat off.

The other hand raises a mug to her lips, to drink some more coffee.

Kalen Holliday
"Yeah," Kalen says.  "She might be fine.  I just don't know.  I mean...I don't think anyone is exactly great, but...I kind of actually bonded with humans.  Alexander takes surprise hugs very well.  Also, actually, Trent."  He smiles a little.  "You were still sleeping, so you missed me being in a hugging place.  I'm sure you're terribly sorry about that."

Danny
*Whatever else was in the conversation was missed by a mumbled attempt to stay awake even as his hands stilled and his eyes closed.. The murmur comes out possibly as... Hugs are good...  but then whatever else he said was probably nonsense as quite suddenly, he was out like a light.*

Grace
"Maybe not so sorry," Grace says, sadness still ringing in her tone of voice. "I'm glad you had good people around, though. I probably would have hugged you anyway. You know, I can give a hug. It's not like I think you all have cooties."

Kalen Holliday
"Yes, well.  I know.  I just try not to invade your space.  There are people who rather like me in their space, so I mostly flop all over them."  Kalen sounds a bit amused, although his eyes are still serious.  "You seem so generally not into it."

Danny
*Somehow, Danny having Kalen flopped on him seemed to have pushed him back into sleep land. Yep, he was gone, breathing deeply and evenly.*

Grace
"I'm not, really. I guess it's just... childhood programming. Maybe I should try to get over it. I don't know," Grace says, shrugs, drinks coffee.

"You seem to like flopping all over people. If only I could figure out why..."

Kalen Holliday
"I rather like knowing they're alive.  And there.  And...it's pretty much only the Awakened.  It helps me focus.  So...it's cold with Alexander and all but...Connor and Pan...amazing.  I mean. I guess Pan can be really intimidating, but I always found him calming.

"Of course, he was less scary when I met him.  I might have been more intimidated otherwise."

Climbing Trees and Blowing Minds

Danny
(awareness)

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 3 )

Elijah
[awareness!]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 5, 5, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Elijah
One has to wonder sometimes, in the brisk autumn, what it is that Elijah does for a living that affords him the ability to loaf around so very, very much.

The truth is that Elijah has an allowance and a crappy job that is terrified of him being crazy so they let him do basically whatever it is he wants so long as he doesn't have an episode of decompensation in the middle of the university print shop. His parents were paying a lot of money for him to go to school, the least they could do was make sure that their son doesn't vomit up word salad at his job, right? Of course right. So, he'd gotten off work early. This, however, wasn't due to a fit of mental instability but, rather, because there wasn't anything to print and he had time to meander around the park and think.

Yes, think.

Something he has been accused of not doing fairly often, but there he was, making his way over a loop on the sidewalk and he spotted it. A tree. Not just any tree, but a tree with a low enough branch that he could get a good foot hold and he could maneuver himself upward into the branches and just be there- but first, there was a feeling. A feeling that caught his attention and slowed his approach to his new perch.

"Mn."

Danny
*Danny was at a bench not too far away from said tree. Staring off into the distance as he had his lips pursed in thought, a writing pad on his knee and a pen in his left hand as he thought, thought, thought... and had hit a dry wall mentally.*

Elijah
"Do you wanna climb with me?"

Because, despite the fact that the other man also looked like he was immersed in homework, it didn't mean that Elijah couldn't, wouldn't, and did not want to bother him. Because soon enough he was distracted from said tree and the young blond made his way over.

"You look like you could use a change in perspective."

Danny
*Blinking a few times Danny came back to the now and present, then lifted his head turning it to look at Elijah.* Oh, hey... How's it going?  Change in perspective? *he looked at the pad on his denim clad legs then shrugged as he looked at Elijah again.*

Is this another parody of "D'ya wanna build a snowman?"

Elijah
[Willpower: Don't. Sing. That. Song.]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 6) ( success x 1 )

Elijah
The mere mention of the song made him almost leap into the verse, it was terrible. It was horrible. He actually liked Frozen, and the movie was just full of ear worms to the point that there was nothing he could really do to stop himself, but will workers could shape reality to their whim. Being able to not sing Disney songs was hardly a roadblock.

"Nah, not a parody, just wondered if you wanted to climb a tree with me, you looked super intense."

A beat.

"And I'm okay. Just, y'know, communing with bottled nature."

Danny
*Both his eyebrows rose slowly and the corner of his mouth began to lift into a smile.* Communing with bottled nature?  I actually prefer Let It Go. If I were going to sing any of it, it'd be that one.

*He chuckles and gets to his feet then slips the pad of paper into a small satchel that was partially hidden on him.* In the past year or so it's kind of taken on new meaning.  I was trying to write but... *He shrugged and stepped closer to Elijah, looking at the tree.* You want up huh?

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Danny
(WTF!! I wasn't going to roll dice!)

Elijah
[I am totally capable of climbing a tree. Dex+athletics+WILLPOWER!]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 8) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Elijah
"Yeah, a city park is kind of like nature, and it's nature in a city, but it kinda lacks the… I don't know… it's so planned," says the young man who feels like a disaster. It makes sense that he would lean towards chaos. He looks at Danny and started on over closer to the tree. There's a grin on his face.

"What all do you write?" he asks, curiosity on his youthful features.

Danny
Songs... *he frowned at the satchel, picking it up and bringing it with him.* Mostly... Notes on lyrics, half bits, sentances that make sense to me.

*He makes his way over to the tree and cups his hands.* Go on then... I'll give you a boost, but don't fall on me.

Elijah
"I promise nothing," he tells Danny, and with that it was up into the tree, or at least on one of the lower, sturdier branches. He offered a hand down tot he other man, waiting almost expectantly. "You going to join me? I'm pretty sure that the muse will still be up here, too."

Danny
*He eyes the tree... then sighs again and sets the strap over his shoulder and round his neck before he lets it hang there. Then seems to collect himself before grabbing Elijah's hand with his own. On the middle finger there was a large silver ring in the shape of what looked like a workable light switch. A large enough one to cover the first phalanger of that finger itself. Then he began to scrabble his feet up to sit on the branch as well.*

(up you go Danny boy.)

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (1, 6, 7) ( success x 2 )

Elijah
So there they were, two young men in a tree, looking out at the park with a supposed new perspective, or at least a higher perspective. Elijah adjusted his position, not quite nimble but certainly more comfortable in the tree than he had been before. He's done this before, it wasn't anything new now, now it was just something that he could practice and become more accustomed to.

"Hav anything you like yet? Lyrically speaking?"

Danny
I've always got something i like. *He shifts and gets comfortable, resting both his hands on the branch.*  There's always something just that little bit more to be able to do, something else to tweak. Something else to work on, twisting the lyrics in a song I've got to shift it on it's axis and make it relevant to who I am now, or have it completely mundane.

*he smiles and shrugs.*  So how's your home work going?

Elijah
"Using art to come from a place that talks about the universal experience while still being personal?" he seems… strangely comfortable in the tree. He certainly isn't a felinee creature, but he is comfortable in his surroundings. Adaptable.

How was homework.

"Homework is Hell. I have no idea where Kalen finds half of this stuff, but seriously? If I haven't read every book in that library by the time I'm twenty-one I will have failed at life."

Danny
Uh... Kind of? *He frowns a bit at that description.* I'm still trying to get my head round half of this stuff, most of it doesn't make any sense.  

*He smiled looking at the ground then turned his eyes to Elijah.* How does that make sense?  You've plenty of time to read, knowledge comes through experience not just through a book.

Elijah
"It doesn't have to make sense," he starts, "and I'm like… okay, knowledge does come through experience, and the idea that anything separates us from everyone and everything else is kinda wonky, I don't know how to break past that barrier between me, or what I think is me, and whoever wrote the books I'm reading- because they felt strongly enough to put their experiences to paper. It's a way to break down the idea that I'm separate from the rest of the human condition."

A beat passed.

"I talk too much, I'm sorry."

Danny
*He just stared at him. Stared intently and as he did so his eyebrows rose higher and higher.* Hold up.. *One hand raised to stop the guy's tumbling of words from his mouth. Just in time for Elijah to stop.* Start again, but this time pretend I don't have a clue what the fuck you're talking about?

Elijah
"The idea that people and time and space are separate things, I think, is bullshit and held up by self-imposed boundaries and limitations."

Danny
See, that makes sense. *He laughs.* Okay... So, you think that everything is essentially at it's purest level, linear?  And the only reason people don't see that is because they don't want to?

Elijah
"I would almost say everything is a point, here and now. And the possibilities of here and now are at once infinite and can be boiled down to a single, pure moment- which is totally a contradiction, but! Anyway. I don't think people see that because the concept of the infinite is terrifying."

Danny
Multiple moments, all in the same breath.  infinte options of possibility..... *he mulls that idea over slowly in his head.*

A thousand heartbeats on a pin head... *he finally came out with and pursed his lips again then leaned carefully against the tree to pull out his pad and write that down.*

That's kind of neat, but....  if that's all in one moment, doesn't that kind of mean that everything and everyone's future is already predestined?  I mean, all if it in one purified moment, one singular event.  *he turned his head and looked at Elijah again.* Huh...

Elijah
"I talked to a guy once who reconciled free will and destiny as a function of quantum physics? Which I didn't get, but it was crazy, because if there are some facets that you can control, then arguably there are some things you can't control or something like that. I don't know, I'd have to ask him to explain it again, I've slept since then," he admits.

Elijah adjusted himself in the tree, "and I think that if every moment is now then, arguably, our will is more important than anything. The future is malleable because of free will."

Danny
*He frowns a touch and shakes his head.* Right, so kind of like that whole rabbit hole theory I came out with?

*Being sat up a tree and discussing this was an odd blend.* I saw this show once on tv were a shrink used smell and sound to put someone back to an event they needed to relive to get evidence on something... like that?

Elijah
"I don't know," he admits, "maybe? I'll be honest, I'm still trying to figure a lot of this stuff out and... I just... some things just feel right?"

Danny
*Now that he could get his head around.* Yeah... *he chuckles softly.* Like the music... the pulse.

Grace
[Awareness!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Elijah
"So, tell me about that," he says, with eyes alight and attention direct and he waited to hear more of what was going on with this particular thing. The music, the pulse, the inspiration for livelihood and the inspiration for whatever it was that Danny did. His muse, his darling, what connected him to the world and what connected the world to him.

Grace
It is a no-so-secret that Grace is rather fond of bottled nature. Real nature is too raw, and there is no wi-fi nor electrical outlets, so that gets boring fast.

But the kind of nature one might obtain in a city park? It'll do. It's green.

Humans are creatures of green, when it comes down to it. It's why, even in the desert, they would pool resources to buy enough water to nurse a small patch of grass here and there. Wasteful, but then, so was living in the desert to begin with.

Grass, teased by wind into waves. Blades like particles, carrying the visual effect of a force. Granular and fluid -- the way things really are.

Like light on scattered excited photons.

In her musing walk along the path, Grace's head pops up a bit more, starts looking less at the grass and more for people, because that thought is rather familiar isn't it?

Danny
What do you want to know? *he asks quietly.* I've been playing guitar for a long time, grew up playing it, started writing when I was twelve.... *One shoulder shrugs a little.* Inspiration is... it's everywhere man, it's in the ether, some words just need to get put down on paper. It's like they're meant to be, some times I can't keep up with the thoughts in my head.

Others... *He frowns at the pad.* Other days are slower, those are the days I work around the notes... or  I go for a walk, or... Oh... *Belatedly he realises that might not be what Elijah had meant.* Right, you mean when it hit?

Elijah
There is a familiar feeling, like a knife between his ribs. Something he knows, something he associates, oddly enough, with a friend of his. He peered out from the tree to try and see if he could see her, though his current change in perspective did not make him more observant, it only changed the myriad of sensory input he was taking in. It was all a flood, a deluge, a mess of things to process.

"You gotta take inspiration where you find it," he said, "it's… the world is pretty fucking miraculous- good bad, all of it. Overwhelming and awe inspiring, and thank everything for words, right?"

An odd sentiment, the way he said it there was almost a capitalization in his voice, almost a hint that words were something powerful, something miraculous, something no less glorious than music itself.

"No way, dude, I mean, like, talk about whatever you want to talk about. I wanna get to know you, you're fucking magic incarnate."

Grace
After they feel the strange, unsettling sensation of her, the two guys stuck up a tree hear Grace's voice from below. "I see some people are pretending to be fruits today. Or are you trying to flee from some danger I don't know about yet?"

She strides up to the trunk and looks up at their feet.

Danny
*Danny too had turned his head in the direction of Grace, peering through the limbs of the tree they were sat in to see if he could find her. Then Elijah's voice brought his attention back again.* Huh? *He turned in surprise.* How the hell do you figure that out? How the hell am I magic incarnate? *Then he shook his head slowly.* I am nothing of the sort my friend. And yeah, there are things so beautiful that it makes your heart ache, it brings you to your knees and makes you want to weep for the shocking beauty of it all. Like the sky at night in the mountains not too far from here.  *he turns to look at the young man beside him then lifts his hand to rub his chin a bit.* You should put your mind to writing things down.

*Then Grace was there and he grinned down at her.* Hey... How's it going? Strange fruit hangs from the tree, Southern trees bear strange fruit, blood on the leaves and blood at the root, black bodies swinging in the southern breeze, strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees. Billie Holiday... and I hope that we don't look like those.

Elijah
How the Hell am I magic incarnate?

"Because you're alive and part of the cosmos," Elijah replied, as though this was the most obvious thing int he world to him. Like the sky and the grass and Danny being magic were universal truths that need not be explained simply because they just were. He leaned forward, and tried to offer Grace a hand in the hopes that the Virtual Adept would join them literally in the middle of nature.

"C'mon, the view up here is great, and you have the added bonus of partial cover."

Grace
The thing about Grace and being touchy-feely isn't so much a phobia of the thing as it is a lack of understanding (not to mention the discomforting sensation of pins and needles on her skin). Hugs don't comfort. Handshakes don't engender trust. But a hand offered to help lift her up a tree has an actual purpose behind it.

Purposes, now there's a thing she can get behind.

She takes Elijah's hand and tries to make her way up the trunk.

"I... uh, didn't actually mean it to be that morbid. So no," she says to Danny.

[Dex + Ath = Tree Climbing!]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (4, 4, 6, 10) ( success x 2 )

Danny
So existence is part of it all to your minds view? *he understood suddenly a bit more about this young man, his open-ness and apparently constantly questing mind. A thirst for knowledge. Sure... Come on up..

*He shifts a bit on the branch then with his hand holding onto the branch he leans over and dangles his arm and hand down.*

Ahh be still my beating heart, a woman that knows the lyrics of Billie Holiday. Madame, you have me at a disadvantage. *He grins moving along again to let her be comfortable, then leans a bit to look at Elijah.* Do you know to what she was talking about, Billie and her strange fruit? We were talking about muses and music after all.

Elijah
So, then, there were three mages in a tree. Three mages in a tree, like that scene from the Hobbit. There may be something down below, lurking in wait, waiting to eat them. Waiting to consume them whole, but they weren't driven to the tree for any other reason than to be… well… in a tree. To be because one could be. He smiled, because smiling came so damnably easy to him. Because his eyes could light up and while it might not be as easily as before it certainly did grace his features with minimal effort.

"Yeah, existing, being present, if you're part of the world, then you're part of it. If you're of the belief that-" he stopped, realizing his mind was going faster than his mouth could process.

"And Billie Holiday, given the time frame, it sounds like it's a protest against racism and lynchings."

Grace
"At least being in the tree makes us a little bit safer than on the ground, considering what I've been hearing about the goings-on in parks lately," Grace says, and makes a disgusted face. "My turn to be morbid."

"You were talking about muses?"

Her turn to change the subject, too.

Danny
*Danny nodded his approval and smiled as well this time to Grace..* See. That's what I see as my part of all this, my place in this whole existence thing. Now I'm not saying I should be some ingenius lyricist, however...... If what I can do adds just one more edge to the way things go... foretellings, ensuring that people remember things that are important.. It's not for everyone... But if it helps... if it makes a difference.

*he shrugs and reaches into his pocket after slipping the pad away, then pulls out a packet of cigarettes, takes one out then slips it between his lips. He runs his hand with the zippo down his thigh to light it, then puts it to the end of the cigarette.* I mean, we've all got music in us. Our own inner spark.

Grace
"You want to inspire others? Or inspire the universe? Or do you consider both to be pretty much the same?" Grace asks, settling herself into the crook formed by a branch against the trunk.

Danny
I think so.. *he took  drag on the cigarette and held it for a few seconds, then let it go gently.* It's always one and the same. It's all part of the same thing, the same dance. So maybe.. *he took another drag off it.* maybe Elijah is right and we are all linked on some cosmic level.

Grace
Grace looks to Elijah, smirk on her face. "Is that what Elijah thinks?"

"I kind of agree. That's the way I see it. Quite literally, in fact. Would you like to see?"

Danny
*He was surprised by that question, leaning forwards to glance down at the ground then back at Grace.* I uh... Sure!! *The grin came back quick as a flash.* Just don't let me fall out of the tree.

Elijah
Is that what Elijah thinks?

"See, I do thIs that what Elijah thinks?

"See, I do think every once in awhile, on a grand cosmic level," he said with a playful grin, "but seriously, yeah, I seriously think that we're all interconnected on a fundamental level."

A beat.

"Grace let me listen to walls once, it was z trip, like- if you seriously think there is music everywhere it's like a matter based whale song."ink every once in awhile, on a grand cosmic level," he said with a playful grin, "but seriously, yeah, I seriously think that we're all interconnected on a fundamental level."

A beat.

"Grace let me listen to walls once, it was z trip, like- if you seriously think there is music everywhere it's like a matter based whale song."

Grace
[Corr 1, Matter 1, Life 1: Correspondence Sensing -- We're going to try to see the connections between... stuff. Diff 4 - 1 (taking time) + 1 (concurrent effect)]

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

Grace
Grace nods to Danny and pulls out her cell phone. Looks for quite a while to be playing a game upon it, perhaps, or having gone off and forgotten the conversation -- too busy texting.

But they will both become aware of the fact that Grace is not playing Angry Birds. Or, if she is, it is in some awfully piercing fashion.

She turns the phone around so that they can see too -- a black and white landscape of the immediate surroundings, bristling with life (orange outlined) and inert matter (blue tinged), all seeming to melt into each other with fuzzy threads. It's almost as if everything is pulling at everything else, but to what central point? There is none. Because that point is everywhere. It almost hurts the eyes or the brain to try to parse the image, and in the corners, it fades.

Grace just smiles behind the screen. Show-off.

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (3, 5) ( success x 1 )

Grace
[Also, whoops. I accidentally extended apparently. lol.]

Danny
*And suddenly, it was like a faint thread of light trailing between things and people, illuminating their traces and threads around well, everything... as far as Danny was concerned.  His hand with the cigarette in was forgotten as he stared agape round him.* That is......... *his voice was small, awestruck, his breath catching.* I can't describe it. But...... Its incredible. It's all got its own energy. Each one has it's own vibration. Its like seeing sound. *And that in itself was a revelation.*

Elijah
He could just take it in, the awe, the wonder, the excitement. There was a lot to observe, a lot to feel, and there he was all bright eyed and miraculous and wondrous because they were interconnected. Every place, every second, every thing touched. Everyone was connected, and Grace could prove it. Elijah looked at her like she was something else, and it was a good thing.

Danny
(I am really sorry, I have to go, Danny will remain silent and gobsmacked to a degree until they go.)

Grace
It's amazing, really, what can cause her friends to sit there, jaw-dropped. It's not as though she reached into the screen and pulled out a rabbit. But still. That's the magic of technology, right? The sharing potential?

The image fades quickly. There's not much holding her effect together. The data moves, you see -- fuzzes out. It takes effort to massage it into a rendering of reality like that, and Grace isn't making the attempt.

"I think I broke Danny," she says, all smiles.

Elijah
"I'm telling Kalen," he said with a grin, something playful, "you gotta quit breaking people's brains, dude."

He climbed over to a different branch, taking the opportunity to observe his companions from a different angle.

"So, what's your muse, Grace?"

Grace
"The entire universe, including myself. I look. And I find," she says, and puts her phone back in a pocket.

She climbs up to Elijah, to leave the broken Danny where he is, contemplating the connections, lost in his thoughts. And once she's settled herself, leans in.

"I heard that you ran into something not so nice recently. In a park?"

Elijah
"not so much not nice as the echo of something that wasn't nice. There was.. You remember how the newspaper said that there was an increase in missing persons? And how those missing people were healthy and strong and generally free of, y'know, mental defects?" there was a moment to either confirm or deny, but he did continue onward, "well, okay, so Lucy and I were in the park and I heard a voice, right? So we take a second and there's the ghost of one of those missing people- Jeremy Tran? Anyway, he's looking for his dog and my dumb ass has the brilliant idea of see if someone could see in the past and see what happened to his dog- no big deal, right?"

Another beat passed.

"Okay, so that's a big deal because Lucy looks back and sees that these people just straight up ambushed him and knocked him out, and killed his dog and the next thing we know Jeremy's screaming and it looks like his heart was taken out and his flesh gets stripped and there's bite marks and-" he stops, this time he stops because it's… it's not the most pleasant of images to recount. Elijah is a creature with a vivid imagination.

"So yeah, I think that some of the increase in missing people may be attributed to that."

Grace
The more she hears about this, the worse it seems. These guys are more 'visible', more destructive than even the vampires, from the looks of things. Or perhaps they are one and the same?

"Why don't you put what you know on Ginger? Alex ran into something too. Sounded connected to all this... cannibal shit."

Elijah
"I've been trying to word it in such a fashion so that it doesn't sound one, completely fucked up and two, so people will actually listen to it."

Grace
"Seems to me like no manner of wording is ever going to make that not sound completely fucked up, Elijah. Just it needs to get out there. People need to know about this. It's a major threat, and holding back on the info could mean the difference between life and death for somebody," Grace says, and breathes the tree in. It smells of bottled nature in the heart of the city.

"The reason why I edited your post and redacted all that info was to keep people safe, you know? And I didn't strip out anything about the threat that it posed to Denver residents. There's a reason I did that too. Information can kill, and it can also save lives. In this case, I think it's pretty clear cut."

Elijah
"Nobody said anything about it until you redacted information. I'm not entirely certain how to get people to acknowledge that they have heard or that they have listened or that there is a problem and I don't want to be the boy who cried wolf. I'm not going to post things until I have sources and I'm sure this is something that needs to be posted, I'm not going to go run off at the fingertips and fuck things up," he insisted.

He paused, and then? Then he laughed, and shook his head, "fuckit, I really just need to get over myself."

Grace
"If they don't listen, that's on them, isn't it?" she says, trying to pull him back. "And I think people are listening. They might not always respond, but they pay attention."

She looks up into the leaves, watches them play with the wind. "Everyone does. Need to get over themselves."

Elijah
There was a second, and he adjusted again in the branches, comfortable but never too comfortable. Never so comfortable as that he can hang out in the branches of a tree and just be. No, he's more of an on-the-ground kind of guy. He paused, looking back at Grace.

"Is Kalen okay? Last time we really, you know, talked, he seemed kinda off."

Grace
"Did he? Like, more than usual? Last I checked, he was okay, inasmuch as he is ever okay. He went through some bad shit lately. Lived out months of a life where his worst nightmares came true, and then he comes back home where it threatens to happen on a regular basis. You expect perfection out of Kalen and you'll be just as disappointed with him as you'll be with anyone else," Grace says, staring off into the sky. Somewhere, out there, there are stars.

"He hides it well. Too well, sometimes. Especially from those he thinks he needs to be strong for, you understand?" Like, say, his apprentices.

"Sometimes, though, the mask slips."

Elijah
"I watched a thing on youtube," here we go, the extent of Elijah's magical understanding came from a youtube video, "about trust. It was… it was pretty profound. The guy said that trust is important because it means that we can stop being prepared to be disappointed, and we expend so much energy. That there is something about letting go, it lets us stop worrying that someone won't catch us when we fall. Trust is our relationship to the unknown."

He paused, "where I was going with this was that I want to be someone Kalen can trust, so that he doesn't have to have those walls up. That he can relax because… y'know… he's been through a lot. He deserves a break."

Grace
"Kalen's walls are Kalen's. There's nothing you can do about his hangups. But I find that T-Rex mechas help."

Grace smiles, and there is the softness in her gaze that says just how much she cares about the man. They're like siblings who somehow never quite grew up with each other.

Elijah
"T-Rex mechas help everything, Grace, that's just fact."

he smiled anyway, big and bright and a little easier than it had been in the previous month.

Grace
"They really do. They're like cupcakes. We should make T-Rex cupcakes somehow..."

She sighs a happy kind of sigh, in this calm. It's not going to stay like this. Somewhere, people are getting dragged off and cannibalized. Somewhere else, a vampire nest awaits burning. Denver never quits, never quiets.

But in between, there are people and comfort and companionship. It's the way they all stay sane. Hopefully.

Delilah

Delilah
[I feel like these greetings would be more appropriate for Lux/Verna. *g*]

Grace
[Hahahahaha. Poor Verna]

Grace
So it's a great day to get out of the office. For most people, that would be every day. But for Grace, the reason is more personal. She's one of those jealousy-inducing people who truly loves her work. So why is she so happy to be here?

Might be because Adam is there.

If he's going to spend much more time hanging around their place, Grace is going to have to at least try to get along, but for the time being, the lure of pho is a decent enough reason to flee that particular thorn of a person.

And a bowl she has, steaming up her little table by the wall. Like a good girl, she's even put her phone away for the time being in order to eat without risking the poor electronic device's early demise.

The place is mostly empty. It's not lunch time or dinner time, but somewhere in between. Two-ish. It's the middle of the day, when most people are between meals. Grace just eats when her stomach says it's time. Maybe that's why Kalen always says she forgets to eat?

It's the kind of place that tries very hard with very little. Between rent and upkeep and trips to Vietnam to see family and order spices in bulk, the decor suffers a bit. There's some silk orchids in vases on the walls, but also some peeling laminate in the corner. They're using the free version of Pandora as background music, but it's not loud enough to really pay attention to the advertisements. Just your average American dream, really. And at that table near the wall, a nondescript woman (man?) in black and grey (blue?) eats her lunch or dinner or whatever you want to call it, in relative peace.

Delilah
The door opens. Delilah enters. Delilah enters, alone and with an umbrella because the air is full of the presentiment of rain. Delilah, see, is a golden creature, a dawn-thing, hair a blaze of unburnished brightness even back in a braid, posture straight see as if that whole muscle sinew bone flesh body anatomy is poetry physicality is a spare story and a spare story can be made, which is to say she carries herself well, and Delilah is wearing jeans and tall boots and Delilah has on a brown leather jacket and there is something stolid about the Dawn-myth, Dawn-lady, Daybreak-hearted whatever -- young woman. Truly, she just looks so much like somebody'd want her to personify Dawn, see, that it's easy to when one does notice her accept it and define her (stamp her with that name) and that's all. That: not the broad features, airy ethereal delicacy only here and there, stolidity in the brow, whatever, whatever, whatever, whatever, the point is:

Door opens. Young woman comes in, with umbrella. And it's Aurora, Eosophoros, some other scrap of gold-story light-ritual, coming into the pho place, because gosh darn it sometimes one just wants pho.

Delilah breathes deep, approaches the host desk and follows a young asian woman with thick middling brown hair red glints in it to a table, sets the umbrella against her chair, looks around because she is in a new place! curiosity! settles her bag down, too, and smiles up at the waitress her eyes open see her gaze direct when she does it and here is the menu and now

Here is Delilah and here is a menu and

[here is an awareness roll, because who knows what evil might happen, mwahaha. -2 for Grace's Arcane.]

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (3, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )

Grace
[Awareness too! Does Grace notice the dawn coming to rest upon Pho-nomenal?]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 3 )

Grace
[Apparently, we're all about the 10s today.]

Delilah
[Seriously. We're using them all up before STed scenes, aren't we? D:]

Delilah
Delilah, marked as a myth, sure, but Grace can sense: radiance - that shining-forth, that beginning of luminous threading threading in and out and in and out and

Grace
Grace is in the midst of slurping noodles when Delilah walks in, dragging the sun with her to spite the rain, and it draws the gaze up, despite the fact that the mouth is full.

Not really a 'couth' person, this one.

Also, one trying to pay attention. Who is this?

Delilah
Who is this? Delilah looks around, see, and her gaze does land on Grace. Her gaze was direct when the waitress handed her the menu and her gaze is direct now, look, look, she sees you, she is seeing you, she is seeing you see, anyway, she looks not a touch startled and another touch curious, this careful sort of curiosity, but the carefulness cannot actually conceal the subtle little shift in her expression (open). Is Grace still looking at her? Because if so, their eyes will meet. Delilah alone, pausing with menu open in front of her a screen to look over bambi-lashed bright, that sense of cities walls barriers shifting quaking falling that keen edge keen incisivie strategic perhaps hm?

Grace
"I haven't seen you here before," Grace says, meeting Delilah's gaze with one that doesn't know what the rules are for staring at people. "You're new in town?"

Or perhaps older than Grace to the place. Who knows? Mages migrate sometimes.

Delilah
They will get along famously, at least when it comes to directness. Delilah, she knows one shouldn't stare, but when her attention is taken she gives it and it is difficult to hide it, far-flung from her nature, see. Delilah, she offers Grace a neat little smile, something demure but with a cheschire edge: any moment, it will be sweet mischief.

"Not really. Newish. I've been keeping to myself, mostly, but not out of any inherent unfriendliness, just - you maybe know how it is. Are you, I'd guess, one of the established clique?"

This is a conversation had across space and tables, Delilah rests her chin on the top of the pho menu, the better to talk. The waitress brings water with ice and also some jasmine tea and because of this Delilah has to look at the waitress and thank her because Delilah isn't rude (well). But her attention swings back to Grace. Little scrunch of her nose. The word clique isn't quite right.

Grace
If Delilah had only met Grace a few years earlier, she'd know just how wrong the word 'clique' is. There's Grace, and then about a few light-years away, there's the popular cheerleader archetype.

"Well, maybe? I suppose? I guess it depends on what you mean by that. I mean, we're hardly what you'd call 'established' here. Unless you mean something else entirely. Which, I don't know, maybe you do?"

Her gaze turns to awkward as she realizes she's rambling about, words coming out of her mouth rather haphazardly.

"I'm Grace. Hi."

Delilah
The blonde at the other table is a little cautious, but that demure Valentine mouth and its smile see - she lifts her chin from the edge of the menu and sets it down flat on the table because she isn't reading it anyway and when the waitress does return to ask her what she wants she will come alert and be not stricken with apology or terror or even exactly urgency just alertness just oh no the need to do a thing and then she will pick the first thing her eye falls on just as if she were a fairy tale king gone home after a long long walk. Caution means nothing when one's got a sunbeam flaring beneath their skin, see? It's only a shadow; passing, and Delilah says, leaning on her forearms, "Oh! I've heard about you. I'm Delilah, Lucy's my sister - you've met her? D'you wanna..."

Her eyebrows go up and her head is lowered like a bull's there's a certain bovine sensibility right as if she could have horns and catch the sun in them but no no just frame the sun in them it is just a presentiment of stubborness and here, now, welcome: yes welcome. Welcome with a hesitation, make it over into something delicate.

D'you wanna...

and she nudges out the chair opposite her. Sit is the word she doesn't say because the expression and the nudging of the chair and yes.

Grace
"Lucy... I think I have actually? No wait.... No, yes I have. Once. At that weird place with the chimes! Right, that was at least someone named Lucy. Geez, that was months ago," Grace says, proud of herself for having remembered.

She eyes the room a bit, calculating. She looks at the spread in front of her, the pho and accouterments thereof. Delilah gets a shrug, and then Grace starts the task of moving tables. First the big bowl of soup, then the plate of condiments, then the coffee and water, then the laptop bag which goes everywhere, and she still leaves behind a bit of a mess. Napkins and straw wrappers and a bit of disorder are what's left to show that there once was a person sitting at that table.

Once everything's moved, she slides into the chair opposite Delilah and gives a little joyous smile at being so welcomed.

"Does you sister feel kinda... cold?" she asks, voice low so as not to draw attention.

Hawksley
[awareness!]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 4, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )

Hawksley
There's a chime over the door, or a bell, and it goes off when that door swings open, letting in another blast of the cool-wet air that actually feels like autumn and warns of winter.  But there's less flinching this time when the door opens, less  hesitance at the thought of rain or prophecy of snow, because the man entering the establishment feels like laying on a beach in summertime, south of the equator.  The warmth is drenching, saturating, coating the skin in languid heat.  You think if you dared open your eyes like that, only half-shaded against the sun, you would see something flying overhead, wings outstretched to catch the breeze as well as the rays, but never quite blocking that central, burning light.

His eyes, which are an unrelenting blue, flick over the interior as he is standing there, regal, despite the fact that he's in nothing more elaborate than jeans and a hoodie over a plain white tee.

Granted, his outfit cost as much as some people's rent, and that's before the shoes.  That's definitely before the watch.  It takes a lot of money to look that effortlessly chill.  Let's not even discuss how he gets his hair to look like that.

--

He sees a friend, or someone he considers a friend.  And it's in her direction he walks, unzipping the hoodie as he goes.  He has noticed the woman Grace is sitting with.  There is not a cell in his body that hasn't noticed her.  But it's to Grace he directs his first attention, Grace with Those Eyes.

"Grace!" he bursts, and kicks the edge of a chair lightly with his foot.  "Are you on a date?  If you're not on a date, you should let me sit down."  He grins.

Delilah
Delilah keeps her forearms on the table. The waitress does come by, and it is just as predicted: that sudden alertness, a golden bow drawn - the string humming, just so, see - her attention thinned and readied and here is the strike, this plate right here, this one, #4 special. The waitress leaves, and Delilah sits straight again now that Grace has chosen to come over to her table with her bowl and her laptop and her many things. Does Delilah's sister feel kinda cold?

"Like winter," Delilah confirms, and her gaze is still direct direct not the kind of direct that becomes a staring contest or a bid for intimidation, oh no, just the kind of direct which is honest about how it is wondering, wondering, oh how i wonder what you are. "Or ice cream." Here here here a moment of focused concern: "You're not bothered by that, are,"

Grace! somebody says, because the door has opened and see in swoops this regal-godling raptor a golden man who looks like he's sun-drenched like he's just pretending to be a man like his skin actually belongs to something which flies high and drops sharp and swift and to kill

(or for the joy of it, eh?)

and anyway, Delilah: Delilah is not shy, and there is a tension at the corners of her mouth the beginning of another smile (see, her mouth purses like a kiss, and there is a sense of conspiracy: the most obvious, most non-conspiratorial conspiracy ever to be conspired, because even when she is almost almost sly it is only for the fun of it). Delilah is not sly.

Grace
"I am not on a date, and since when am I in charge of the chairs?" Grace asks, and looks to Delilah. Does she believe herself to be in charge of the chairs? Perhaps so, considering Grace had to be welcomed aboard.

Granted, Grace is never on a date. Never, especially in comparison to certain Denver denizens who seem to pick up a new delightful person every week. Or every day in some cases. But then, they can. They want to.

"And no, Delilah. I am not bothered. I mean, who am I to judge someone based on how they... uh... feel, eh?"

Hawksley
Oh he loves that smile.  He's looking at her for a moment, the purse of her mouth and glint of her eyes, but then back to Grace.  He has no idea whose table it is, only that no one is protesting his presence.  He does so like to pretend that he has manners.

Hawksley drags the chair out with his foot and drops into it, sprawls into it, hearing Delilah's name despite the lack of formal introduction.

"Delilah," he says, wrapping himself around the name as clearly and with as much entitlement as Grace's burst from his lips.  "Hawksley Rothschild," he says, offering a hand.

Delilah
Delilah is in charge of the chairs, but Delilah's charge is a benevolent one, hands-off, from-a-distant, beaming-down-from-above; a pale wash, the sweep of a glance here, touch of a glance there; all are welcome to the chairs as long as there are chairs, and see - she gives Grace a firm little nod, and Delilah's expressions are sparking things, and her answer sparked some stubborn-steadfastness some ease some oh good there is a puzzle piece and this is its place: snick! everything satisfied glint.

"Oh! Cool. I mean, I'm really glad you said that, Grace. I know it might sound weird, but I'll confess to weirdness. Who doesn't like ice cream in winter?" Here is a Hawksley's hand and how strange it is to shake hands with, oh, but it isn't, is it? He's just hawk-headed: the impression overwhelms her when she takes it. Her mouth curves further: conspiracy! "Hi, Hawksley. Delilah Swan."

"Have you both been around for ages and I've just been missing everybody?"

Grace
"I haven't been around for ages. A while, yes. I mean, technically I've been in Denver like five years, but a lot of that was before you'd probably even notice, and now it's even harder to notice me, so...

"Oh man, I am rambling again. I should stop that."

Grace attacks pho with her chopsticks, trying to cut the weirdness by just not talking for a while.

Hawksley
"My god, of course you are," Hawksley says, hearing her name.  He's almost swept up with the desire to lift her hand to his lips, quick and gallant, but he's not that easily overcome, even by his own desire.  There's one more reason he never considered joining the Cultists.  There's only one thing he wants that well and truly captivates his will.

"I don't know about ages.  But I'm always meeting new people.  Delilah, will you join me in ganging up on Grace to tell her that she absolutely should not stop rambling?"

Delilah
"Yes!" Delilah grins, and nothing Delilah does is sidelong: not really, maybe just-beginning, maybe flushing, blushing: that's as sidelong as she gets, coming at a thing from the side, welling up: nothing Delilah does is sidelong, so the grin is not sidelong, it is a broad stroke. "And I bet you get 'my god' all the time," because Delilah, see, she wants to lift his arm and check for feathers, but she does not. Because: the grin; and Grace. Delilah's grin diminishes a touch, because, oh, she wants to be careful, so she says this earnest as a penny as dew on grass as wet on water:

"Truly, ramble away. I myself find myself rambling quite often. Well! Especially around new people, before - you know? You fall into a groove with them, know who you are around them, who they are around you, find that - oh. The point is, ramble away. Especially about yourselves."

Little beat. And: "I like to hear it." Little lift of her shoulders, lean back in her chair, posture: straight again poise poise poise.

Grace
"Mmm. Mmkeh," Grace says, though she's still trying to get those noodles to go down, at least they're not trying to escape her mouth.

"Rambling. What do you want me to ramble on about? Because I can, about almost anything."

True statement, that. And something catches her eye on the side of the table. Oh! Oyster sauce. Yes, let's do that. She goes for it and squeezes a bit into the soup.

"And even if I don't know about a thing, sometimes I will just wing it anyway."

Hawksley
Delilah surely isn't meaning to puff up Hawksley's ego when she says he must get my god all the time.  But she does.  It sparkles down inside him, lights up his viscera.  He smirks.

He is leaning back in his chair; someone comes to see what he wants and he points to a couple of things on the menu and then returns his attention to the two women he sat down with.  "Are you flirting with me?" he says, interrupting the rambling to respond to Delilah's comment about his godhood.

Grace
[afk a bit! brb. Feel free to skip.]

Grace
[back! Continue!]

Delilah
Delilah startles. Not a lot. Just a little: see, it is in the tug of her wide-set oh morning clear gaze musing on Grace's face as if writ there is a perfect topic for rambling to Hawksley and Delilah is, indeed, a flusher, a blusher, rosy-fingered rosy-skinned air and sunlight whether or not she feels as if she should blush. The startle means she: blinks, her brow lowers.

"I didn't notice," she says, and then: that sly presentiment of a smile, Valentine heart of a thing. "Was I? I never flirt."

Be serious, Delilah: but see, the smile snicks up further becomes meditative a little because does she never flirt - she means it when she says it but as she thinks about it as she thinks about it and she looks Hawksley over and as she says it she turns to glass and it is not very true, is it, that she never flirts? Lucy would call her a liar.

"Why don't you ramble about skydiving?" Look between them. Delilah, blushing ol' clear as anything Delilah, is impartial.

Grace
Oh, there's a giggle from Grace. "I think you mean to ask Hawksley to ramble about skydiving don't you? It seems like the thing he'd do. I've never been, but then I did promise to wing it didn't I?"

She sips some coffee, accidentally dainty.

"Hmm. Did you know the first skydivers came before the first airplanes? People were jumping out of hot air balloons. I suppose it's always been this big human desire, to try to fly, to cut free and just go. Personally, I haven't the slightest interest though. I get enough adrenaline on the ground."

Hawksley
"Liar," Hawksley says, scarcely have the words I never flirt left her lips.  "I've seen the way you smile."

As though her smile, itself, is a flirt.  Which it may be.  He lets it go, smirking to himself as skydiving is brought up.  He feels a tug of his ego there, as well: he attributes the thought of falling through the sky to his presence at the table.  Who wouldn't, who can sense him?

"I've actually never gone skydiving," he chimes in, lifting a glass of water as soon as it is set down to sip at it.  "I'm not so entranced with the falling as with the flying."  He stops there, listening to Grace after she's sipped her coffee.  An expression of utter delight casts over his face: HOT AIR BALLOON SKYDIVING.  "Now that I would try," he mentions.  He's grinning.  Of course he's grinning.

And then his phone is ringing, and he is scowling.  He slips it out of his pocket, glancing at it.  It's something razor-thin and sleek, shiny, unmarred by dents or dings or being more than a few weeks old at most.  He frowns as he looks at it, then taps it and puts it away.  "I'm afraid I have to be going."  Taking out his wallet instead, he lays down a twenty on the table.  "Take whatever it is I ordered home, all right?  Sorry,"

he adds,

which Grace, at least, may have to wonder and realize she's probably never heard him say before.  "Delilah, a pleasure," he says, dropping a small card from his wallet next to the cash.  Grace has probably seen one of these before: a simple calling card.  A name, a number, an email address.  All for 'Davie Livingston', who introduces himself as Hawksley Rothschild.  "Grace, always a pleasure," he adds, and then he's moving -- quickly -- for the door, taking out his phone again.  Must be an emergency,

but to have those you have to have responsibilities, and Hawksley has so few.

Hawksley
[thank you for the RP!]

Delilah
Delilah: gives this little shake shake of her head. Did not mean to ask Hawksley to ramble, even if he did put the thought in her head: look at him; it drops your gut out; it makes you hear the slash of air. Delilah looks quite interested intrigued her mouth goes slack for a moment and then and then and then Hawksley is talking, confessing, no, admitting, and she adds, "I'd just like to go," oh, phone ringing: well Delilah ignores it because Delilah is talking, saying to Grace, "up in a hot air balloon. I bet it would be lazy and glorious."

Then Hawksley is taking his leave and putting down a twenty and Delilah, blushing still, pink diminishing, see, more light less pink, well! Delilah is not so flush even if she is flushed as to turn away twenty whole bucks worth of whatever the heck Hawksley ordered (did he order anything yet?), but she says, meaning it, "It's okay." Then laughs: "Back atcha."

And then he's gone, and the waitress comes with special #4 and Delilah looks at it with the same amount of pleasure she'd looked after this idea of hot air ballooning chased by a fleeting moment of hm is this healthy and then and then and then:

"What gets your heart pumping on the ground? Are you a jogger?"

Grace
Grace tilts her head at Delilah. She's been in Denver how long, and she has to ask that question?

"Uhh. Well, no, not necessarily. But more or less, you know, it's the..." Grace scratches her ear, turns her voice down again after a good look around to see who's listening. "More ground-based dangers. Vampires. Demons crawling out of the theater screens. The regular. By the way, stay away from the Black Orchid, it is a feeding ground."

She then takes her chopsticks in either hand and makes it look like she's attempting to be a walrus. If people get that idea, great.

Delilah
Delilah responds to the change in temperature (mood [low]), dawn-haired young woman lowering herself the better to listen and she was once stronger has let herself weaken slightly muscles have lost some definition but when she recalls she is still wearing a jacket and may be dripping the sleeve through things and takes it off there is a line of strength in her wrist, a woman with arms for expressing oneself: the body as expression, understand.

"Oh, I think I see. Just so much danger, so many Hellish events," faint smile on Hellish, not because the idea of Hell is pleasing, but because association connection see; it isn't a pleased smile, only a faint flex of internal acknowledgment, "that you don't have much of a taste for seeking it out?"

"I don't -- "

Pause. Delilah says, "Do you know about the hungry men?"

Delilah
ooc: "for seeking it, um, adrenaline that is, out?" even

Grace
"I know plenty of guys who are occasionally hungry, I don't think that's what you're talking about though, is it?" Grace asks, putting the chopsticks back to their intended use and going after some meat this time.

Apparently Grace is a hungry person as well.

"Do, tell."

Delilah
"Lucy, Elijah, an unnamed woman who feels like 'rebirth and destruction,' were all drawn to this ghost looking for his dog - " Delilah pauses. Earnest: "Stop me if this is familiar."

Grace
"Not familiar at all, and that's weird, because I live like right next door to Elijah. I assume we're talking about the same Elijah..."

Delilah
"He's got a reputation for being a good kisser?"

Grace
Grace blinks. What? Really? Elijah? Well, that's not the reputation she'd pin on him first, but hey, good for him.

"I... would not know. Young, has this kinda... hair?" Grace says, and makes a swooping gesture about her head, because Elijah's hair always looks like it's about to fly away.

Delilah
"I think they're the same," Delilah says. "He lives with somebody named Kalen?"

Brief pause, for confirmation; and see how serious her eyes are now, morning colored, mourning colored? They're gloaming blue, a bat-song spring. Still direct, because Delilah is always direct.

The she says, "So. This guy was looking for his dog. Turns out, four hungry men killed the dog, snap." One less person Lucy will have to explain what she saw to, fresh. That's what Delilah is thinking. Dawn: it is first. Goes out before dusk. Somehow, they've done the opposite in this city so far. "Then they, they got him. I mean they took him in a van. They got his legs. And they ate him, like. They took his heart. Elijah believes the ghost is one of many disappearances happening over the summer, that it's connected to something he and Sera ran into -- right? and Lucy," a pause.

"Lucy is going to find them. I think that's probably everybody's goal, because horror that bad, I think it's hard to leave. Don't you? I don't know. But that's what happened, the hungry men. Maybe it's not really a 'men' thing. Or a 'man' thing, you know. I don't know."

Grace
Oh, this is the perfect conversation to have over dinner/lunch/whatever, isn't it? Grace blanches a bit, eyes widen a touch. She's trying not to let it show.

Well, shit.

"That's really disgusting," Grace says, and the chopsticks drop.

"I'll have to bug Elijah to let everybody else know."

Delilah
"Yes," subdued, that, to the: that's really disgusting. "I'm sorry," and she is. The sorry encompasses their food, steaming; delicious. Devoid of human hearts, at least. Of hungry men, of any ravenning. "The 'feeding ground' thing made me think of it. And it just happened two nights ago. Not the best 'make a new friend' icebreaker, although," see, the beginning of a hopeful lilt of a smile again: not-quite-coy. "Well! 'Don't go here, possible death' is a pretty great friendly gesture, so thanks."

Grace
There are worse things to be eating right now. Worse things on this restaurant's menu even. Bun bo hue, with its cubes of congealed blood, for example. But Grace still gives a pause to her eating in order to digest.

Her mind goes to the description again and again.

"It's okay. I mean, thanks for the warning. That's always appreciated. There's a thing we use, and I'm surprised Elijah hasn't yet? But we share things like this through it. You should give me your number. I'll see about getting you access."

Delilah
"Uh, what is it?" Delilah asks. "Like a magic cabinet?" she brightens; even bright, it's clear she doesn't really truly think the magic cabinet scenario is likely. "Everybody's got a cool cabinet, you turn a key and hey presto, cool note inside? I've always wanted a magic cabinet, and I don't even know what movie from my childhood I should blame for my desire."

Grace
"Kind of. Like a magic... uh..." Phone sex line. "Well, my friend who helped set it up envisioned it like a super secret spy message drop. Open it up and you might find something really interesting. But most of the time, it's just horrific."

There's a little shrug, like 'Sorry, you live in Denver, not Super Happy Fun-Time Land.'

Delilah
Delilah considers. Taps her chopsticks, once, twice, the beginning of a rhythm. Delilah has an excellent ear for rhythm, for one-two-thre one-two-three, and it was never intrinsic: trained. "I get it," and this is still earnest, open. "We warn each other about horror so not everybody has to experience it, and, I guess, well! To stop it, too. The horrible things get more press." Wry. But let that fade: Delilah can only be wry for brief moments; it is natural, but it doesn't stay naturally. "Hey, on a less horrible note, can I ask you about -- well. People? Other people who are cool in Denver? I barely know anybody, you see, and," and. There is an and; this thorn of worry, see, something not quite dark but which underlies the question asked just out of curiosity.

Grace
"And...?" Grace asks, and it's such a hypocritical gesture from the one who constantly trails off in her conversation.

"Of course you can ask about people. Whether or not I answer depends on if the information is private or not. But shoot."

Delilah
"Information isn't private," Delilah says, with a grin - brief-blooming thing: "But people are, true, and I shouldn't want to upset them," the bloom fades as she continues on, see, into earnestness. "And is all. And I want to know about who's out there. Who's out there? Who's trusty? Is it true, the city's mostly full of people who won't like -- harry you on if you don't belong? Granted," academic this. "Nobody's harried yet, but - " here, a shrug; she bites the inside of her lip, finally ends with -- "Ramble?"

Grace
"Just don't go to this one place," Grace says, leaning down over the table. "An Arch Key books? Dude there is... well, he can be a total prick. You might get harried there. But he generally sticks to himself. And I wonder why, right?" Grace rolls her eyes.

"Mostly, though, nobody here really cares what your sign is. Or even if you have one. I thought I was going to get a lot more people breathing down my neck because of what I am, but so far? Everybody's been super nice."

Delilah
The natural response is: "What are you?"

Grace
Grace considers Delilah. She knows Elijah, that's a plus. But then, so does a Technocrat. Delilah has Lucy for a sister, she's helping... Okay. Probably not a threat, this one.

"Virtual Adept," she says, low-toned, but not said as though she's trying to hide something important.

She is, of course, being very careful who hears. The place is almost empty though, so that helps.

Delilah
Virtual Adept. They've got something of a reputation: the Virtual Adepts. Hot new kid on the block. New kid until somebody else joins the Council. Delilah is a knowing one, settled in her own skin, settling in her own skin; but she couldn't recite the history of the Traditions, and what she knows about the Virtual Adepts is gleaned from a smattering of experiences and - oh, who knows. But she accepts this piece of information as if it were a matter of course, though the shape of her there across the table: curiosity. Delilah is finally, finally no longer blushing: banish all pink.

"I don't know why people would breathe down your neck for that, but I am glad to hear that everybody's super nice. I might, um, breathe down your neck for a favor, I guess, if some jerk tried to post naked pictures of me or something, but - oh! and I guess I'd stereotype pretty hard about cool new or unreleased or special video games and you being the one with the potential hook-up."

Grace
Grace makes a face, a kind of nasty, smelled-something-bad look. Jerks posting naked pictures of people without consent? Try to do that here, jerks. Just try it. Grace will find a way to make your life hell, by the look of that scrunched-up nose.

"If somebody pulls some horrible shit like sharing your nude pics, I will definitely get on the case. Nobody does that to people I like and gets away with it."

People she likes, Delilah! You have made it to the list of people Grace Evans likes! Are you not proud?

Delilah
Delilah is already sitting up straight, but she puts her palms together, knuckles curled and kissing, a happy little gesture. Honestly happy, too. Because having somebody in your corner is a good thing, when it comes to the scum scurf of the world, and because: oh, the principle of the thing. Hands go down; chopsticks get taken up again and she gestures with them once.

"Okay then! I will call you in that case, with, I hope, minimal amount of breathing-down-neck." Oh. Hawksley's business card. Delilah remembers it: peels it off the table and flips it over, lofting her eyebrows. "Well, I will if I have your number."

If now is the time to take that down, Delilah will write it.

Grace
"Oh! Right. Numbers, numbers are important," she says, punctuating the air with a finger.

Grace fishes in her laptop bag for a pen. It's got a nubby rubbery end (capacitive, it's a stylus too) and goes for Hawksley's card. The thing is expensive, of course. Everything of Hawksley's is that luxe. And Grace is going to scribble on it.

314-1592 - G

Delilah
[ - and Jess's brain dies. But Delilah totally gives out her number, too. And the rest of the meal is enjoyed, and then they part ways, and it is very free of doom. Yay!]