Karaoke???

Serafi­ne
Bet you didn't know that Denver has more live music venues than fucking LA. Well, so it does, and on a certain Thursday night in late March - spring spring spring, how can you feel anything right now except spring - a four-piece band without a goddamned name is playing a pop-up show at Whiskey River, which does not actually feature whiskey any more than any ordinary hipster-oriented bar might, and does not contain a river.
It does have a bar and a bit of an outdoor spill-over patio area where smokers and Smokers can retreat mid-show to indulge in their chosen vice and a lanky sort of architecture and a close, warm feel.  And it is more or less constructed in the space left behind by an old movie theater turned porn theater in the 1970s turned strip club in the early 90s, turned legit dive bar circa 1999, turned "We have 23 microbrews on tap" style dive circa 2005.
The bar is cramped, yeah, but there's a marquee out front all lighted up in neon and the stage is pretty goddamned awesome, a good 2.5 or even three feet off the ground, higher than it is in most of the tertiary sort of places unknowns get to play.  Sera sent out a mass text - of course she did, of course she would - without much warning, spur of the moment, as these things always seem to be with her.  And here she is, and here they are, and the bar is maybe three-quarters full - it's Thursday right? not the weekend, but far enough along that some of us want to start our weekend, and the stage is bathed in the sort of sweeping lights that make you look like a goddamned rock star even if you don't already look like a goddamned rock star and Sera,
well, she looks like a goddamned rock star.  Feels like one too.  Three other people on stage and some of them are good and some of them are really fucking great but when she's up there, how can you take your eyes off her?

Gallowglass
[Awaare?]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
[Nightmares]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 2, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Gallowglass
Mr. Gallowglass is not very good at being social. That is a lie: of course it is. Gallowglass can be social. There are indeed cities and chantries where Gallowglass is thought to be quiet and a good listener (trust in me [confidant]), if, of course, arrogant - unrelentingly. But everybody knows his Tradition so they forgive him that (or they don't forgive him that - he doesn't know and he doesn't care because he is arrogant and this is a cycle). He is good at knowing people and intuiting what they feel or think or want to do. He often understands them even if he doesn't like them or is the sort of bookish sleep-deprived young man with vampire-pale skin and shadow-haunted eyes, a gawk with a too-long neck, thin shoulders, a hunch, then that thatch of uncombed Sandman-wild dark hair, you know, which could be in style but probably isn't. He's just got stubble tonight like maybe he shaved the other day and the beard is taking a day to get back to its former brisk villainous glory. Scruff. That's what he is and what he's got: scruff, scruffyness, dishevelledment. Fortunately people at bars do not care. Fortunately also Gallowglass does not care.
Most people don't really keep him in their minds when they look at him. Most people don't look at him all that much. Going to a bar to pick up a date: Probably not Adam's scene. Probably not something he's even good at.
He doesn't look awkward, just: okay. He is here. He is here with Kalen Holliday, for whom he opens the door like the nice guy he isn't, asking what he hadn't asked on the drive over (the chilling, perilous, holy fucking shit Adam do not kill us drive over: guess who has road rage? Guess who has bad road rage when it comes to parking downtown? Somebody's car came this close to being keyed), "Have you heard Serafíne's band before?"
Where is what's-her-name?
There is Serafíne. He could've just looked at the stage, probably: could've just had his gaze drawn there naturally, but even before he opened the bar's door, he was feeling that gut-instinct place-between be enrapt be enthralled lick that is associated with the Ecstatic.

Kalen Holliday
[How distracted are you by Resonance tonight, Kalen?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 6, 7, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
He's breathing in Serafine's Resonance before they're inside.  Before there is that wash of music when the door opens and the sound feels like something he could fall into and float in.  Heavy and rich and washed in something that begs yo to keep falling closer, deeper.  There the soft fluting sounds.  Here the rhythmic base of the sound like the spine of it, anchoring it and holding it and-
And Kit has the door open and is probably already impatient and how long was he there?  A few heartbeats?  Eternity?  There are mathmatical reasons to accept that some infinities are larger than others and each of these people he's passing carry their own and each place they intersect the others near them have...and...and...and....
Serafine.  Whose presence is spilling off of her and over everything.  A whole bar full of possibility and all of it enthralled together in one shimmering moment with her.  It is a kind of communion, even if they don't understand it.  A blessing.
He can taste tequila, and it is memory from things that have happened and will happen and he doesn't even try to untangle any of those moments.  That is for some other time.  Instead he orders two shots of ridiculously expensive tequila and slides one of them toward Adam.

Gallowglass
[I sip this right? We're gonna stamina tequila. I don't even know the drinking rules but it's gonna happen.]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (8, 10) ( success x 2 )

Gallowglass
[Adam: o/]

Serafi­ne
(Performancing?  + charisma)
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 4, 5, 9, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Serafi­ne
also how good is Dan?
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (4, 5, 6, 6, 8, 8, 8, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 1

Serafi­ne
(Okay: Dan gives a masterclass in guitar.  Sera may be too wasted to keep up.)

Serafi­ne
The show unwinds.  Did you know that Sera plays the guitar?  Sera plays the guitar, she plays the guitar sometimes, and sometimes the guitar is slung over her back, the strap bisecting her breasts, the fretboard tangled in the sweatdamp mass of her hair.  A bottle of something either in hand or maybe, sometimes, when she bothers to play, when she deigns to play, when she remembers that there's a fucking guitar on her back, against her spine, on the floor beside the mikestand.
But only for a minute or three or seven or who even remembers to count them when she's in the middle of the stage, right?  Urging and breathless and sweaty and urgent.  They mix covers and originals and sometimes its hard to tell the difference because the covers are obscure and the originals you might've actually heard someone else play once, somewhere, even if when she does them it feels like no one else ever really could.  They segue from the Beatles to the Breeders and back again, play Springsteen (I'm on Fire) and Johnny Cash and the Raincoats and Cool as Kim Deal and PJ Harvey and if you're a critic, if you can shake off the tangled impression of her presence, the lick of her resonance, the spectacle of her digressions and recursions, all of it, somewhere beneath it all is the persistent sense that Jesus Christ these guys are awesome.  Because Jesus Christ that guy is.
And Sera's wearing a short pink dress and her usual fishnets and half-way through decides she's so goddamned sweaty that she stops singing mid-song and just... you know.  Starts to strip off her dress.  Sera manages it just half-way and just sort of hums her way through the rest of the Violent Femmes song they're doing.  Which is fine: the crowd hums and sings too.  That's what Violent Femmes songs are meant to do.
Near the end everything quiets down and girl (pale skinned, dark-haired, all rockabilly) on bass steps back, stops playing, and it's just the guitar and the feedback loop, the shoegazy noise that Dan creates, crouching down and fiddling with his Macbook before he straightens and they launch into a mesmerizing, breathless cover of the Jesus and Mary Chain's psychocandy.
The drone at the end goes on and on and on.
Kalen and Kit can drink and drink and drink.  Oh drink Kit, drink.
By the time the set's over, she'll have sensed them both, surely.  And while the rest of the band start cleaning up their kit, well.  Sera's excused from all that work.  So, she jumps down from the stage and starts pushing her way through the crowd.  Beeline.  Guess where the fuck she's headed.

Gallowglass
Look at Kalen. All dreamy, all willing to be enthralled. Gallowglass is not very demonstrative, but the corners of his mouth tense with the possibility of a smile. He scratches the underside of his chin, does not quite eddy in Kit's dreamy wake even though he is not the kind of young man who often goes to bars. He heads straight for the bar, and perhaps he gets there before Kalen or perhaps not. Do you know how hard it is for Adam to get a bartender's attention? Not that hard: he could just drop the cowel, drop the Mystery, and even Mysterious somebody'll notice him and just forget. He could take somebody's drink and they'd be annoyed and angry but if their attention was distracted for a minunte --
But Adam wouldn't take somebody else's drink unless he was going to poison it. He is not a poisoner. So he's happy enough for Kalen to order whatever the fuck he orders. Tequila? Adam would not know expensive tequila from cheap tequila (or thinks he would not [delicate WASP stomach]). He doesn't down it right away.
Because he's listening to the band. Adam claps and 'woos' after Johnny fucking Cash, but looks sober his eyes hooded during any Beatles songs, seems content during PJ Harvey covers, and it's when Dan's guitar work is particularly amazing, amazing enough that Adam is watching the consor's fingers, attentive, sharp, that he throws back the shot, nudges Kalen, a gleam that touches on mischief in his eyes but might be poised toward conspiracy instead, "Cheers, Kal," and
and
and
holy shit. He's totally fine. The burn is good; his head does not swim; his eyes barely water at all, so he grins - pleased. Pleased enough that he's not even paying attention when the band starts packing up and Serafine beelines in their direction because he is ordering another two shots of the same thank you very much one for him and one for his buddy. Yes.

Kalen Holliday
Kalen, who tolerates only a handful of people using diminutives on him, grins back in response to Adam's look, raises his shot glass, and downs the tequila.  There are schools of thought that you should savor such a thing.  Linger.  Hoard.
But Kalen has touched the face of eternity.  He knows that life is forever twisting back into new forms but forms are fleeting and moments are fleeting and there is only this.  Right now.  This moment.  This instant.  Only this.
Sometimes he forgets and gives in to nightmares and shadows but tonight he remembers and the world is so dizzyingly beautiful that he can taste transcendence.  It is a little like blackberries and sweet champagne and the scent of lotus blossoms and blood and earth threading through underneath it.
And this why he called Gallowglass.  Relentless and sure and unyielding.  Solid.
He accepts another shot, but he rests his head on Gallowglass' shoulder while they wait for it.  His skin is warm but the echoes of armor in Kalen's mind are cold.  Both things are equally real.  He closes his eyes and breathes out softly.
Perfect.

Serafi­ne
Kalen?
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 3, 5, 6, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 5 )

Serafi­ne
Adam?
Dice: 4 d10 TN5 (2, 3, 4, 9, 10) ( success x 2 ) Re-rolls: 1

Gallowglass
[Okay brah. Is shit up with you? PERC AWARE + SPESHULTEE. Watch this botch. *suspicion*]
Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (5, 5, 7, 7, 9, 9, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 7 ) Re-rolls: 1

Serafi­ne
"Hi."  Sera can beeline through the crowd with the best of them.  She was made to beeline through crowds, in heels, half-dressed, sweat gleaming on her skin.  She was made for crowds and here she is, see, slicing through one that is starting to both come-down and break up, or at least, break itself back into the factions from which it was manufactured when they took the stage.  No longer a crowd but a noisey animal, un-segmented, opened up, conversations picking up and lingering and changed all around, opening, opening.
And Sera, "Hiiiiii." with an arm around Adam's waist and another around Kalen's, this little squeeze that somehow encompasses them both as a couple, right?  Then lets them go and swings 'round them pair of them like a whip.  Bottle in hand and she sets it on the bar.
Only half-empty but that is a fifth of Stranahan's, so.
Slow down, Sera.
She's still half-humming beneath her breath, skimming on fumes and the energy of the crowd.

Gallowglass
He doesn't push Kalen away and say anything like: c'mon man. Doesn't flush or blush or get all what the fuck. Maybe a little what the fuck for a moment. What the fuck isn't the right word to use. The Flambeau called him to come see Serafíne play at a bar and Adam didn't think anything of it except perhaps brooding thoughts on Serafíne and his desk and Ruse and that scene at the bookstore. He does give the other Hermetic something of a keen look: what are you doing; his expression is occulted, considering. He says, "Man, you are going to chase the girls away. Oh, here's one."
His accent is stronger than usual: hear it? That muddle of time spent abroad.
"Hi Serafíne. Dan is very good." This is Adam's greeting: sea-eyed, exhausted, weary-as-fuck. A beat later, he's regretting the missed opportunity to say: hey, girl, with a grin. Because Adam is a jerk. He is arrogant and he is mean and he doesn't actually think Serafíne minds.
And a beat later, he's regretting it again, blinking once and then twice, drawing himself up just a little, because Kalen's head on his shoulder and Serafíne's arm around his waist: it's way too much for Adam, who is rather aloof, composed, self-contained. "Erm, you were all right too."
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 5, 7, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
"Serafine?"  Kalen murmurs, without opening his eyes, as if to confirm that Gallowglass is referring to Serafine and her larger than life presence as if she could ever be wholly encompassed by a word like girl.  "I doubt she'd be scared off.  Try not to break her poor heart like you break Kharisma's with your ridiculous standards and rules and customs and limitations and whatever else."  He makes a soft sighing sound that might have been a laugh under other circumstances.  "But if you really like her...."
He opens his eyes and they are pale and luminous and mischievous and suddenly he is grinning, even if he doesn't pick up his head..  "Hey, Sera.  You want to learn all about how people spoke with flowers in Victorian England?  And by with I mean using them in a complicated secret language of signals between lovers, not actually communing with the flowers themselves."

Serafi­ne
"I know."  Sera hums around the thought of Dan's brilliance; god, she's still feeling that in her bones, between her teeth, beneath her pulse, in the way her heart pounds, and the I know is for Dan being very good and if she were the sort to take offense at damning with faint praise well, she might do so right after that but no.  Her hand slides across Adam's waist and she lets him go.  She's smiling, inhaling, the way one does when the world has gone star-mad and cross-eyed, amazed by the way her body moves as she sliiiides up to the bar and loops an arm around her bottle and rests her cheek on her fist and her elbow on the wood.  "He's a fucking genius, isn't he?"
The sort of genius even someone like Adam might appreciate.  Serious on stage, a virtuouso, really, intent and aware of the rest of the players.  Especially aware of Sera, in all her sloppy glory, particularly when she starts to fall apart, to lose the thread of the line, ready to come in where needed, to keep the band going so that she can fall to pieces without anyone else coming to harm.  While the rhythm section keeps the beat and the -
Sera blinks, lazily, from Kalen to Adam.  Blinks back again.  Considers asking Adam where Ruse is and does not really understand that she hasn't asked the question aloud because her dark blue eyes have snagged on Kalen and linger there.  Linger, linger -
then Kalen's moving, mischievous, asking her if she wants to learn the secret language of secret lovers and of fucking course she does, says everything about her, but -
"Hold that thought." She tells Kalen, unfurling, unsteady, aware.  "I gotta pee."
And so she ducks away, leaving behind her bottle like a flag claiming new territory, sliding expertly through the crowd.  Girl's gotta pee.

Grace
[Nightmares!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 8, 8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )

Grace
So Grace wanders in, and by that we mean, she wanders aimlessly with her head shoved into her phone, because she Googled the address and got lost anyway, and then started looking up reviews of the place to see where the entrance might be, and...
Anyway, how much does this surprise anyone, that a Virtual Adept appears with her face lit by phonelight? Something must draw her attention though once she's inside, and she looks around the place. No Sera, singing from the stage. Must be too late.
And how does this Virtual Adept wander in, except for wearing what she always wears? The grey turtleneck, the jeans, the sneakers, the laptop bag thrown across a shoulder... it must be a topic of conversation behind her back sometimes, about how she never really changes her outfit.

Gallowglass
Kalen mentions Kharisma and Adam shrugs. He shrugs with malice aforethought: don't get too settled there Kalen. There's a chuckle layering his voice but he isn't actually chuckling; it's just the suggestion of one. "Phée would not have been well pleased with me if I'd done anything with your Kharisma. And marriage is not a ridiculous custom, rule, limitation, or standard, though I'm not prepared to argue the point right now. How is Kharisma doing anyway?"
The last part of the sentence is said hastily, with something of temper beneath it: look, the other tequila shots have arrived. Adam picks the shot up and prepares to throw back.
First, though, Serafíne wanders; Adam resettles, glad not to have her arm around his waist (because Adam is a cat: secretly, a cat - who just got pet by a stranger), he says, "Ta," and then grins at Kalen: "I guess that line only works in bars near the universities, eh?"

Kalen Holliday
Kalen makes a soft, protesting sound at the shrugging, though whether because he is that ridiculously attached to being in contact with someone or because now he wants to torment Gallowglass is generally unclear, he stays there anyway.
"Come now, if anything, I'm hers.  Let's not even pretend where and how that falls."  There is something in tone, for all he doesn't directly address it, that hints at apology.
"'Kay.  Remind me me later."  And he's saying it to Sera for all he's murmuring half into Gallowglass' shoulder, but he probably should be saying it to Gallowglass anyway as he's the one of them that will definitely remember, though he probably wouldn't be inclined to cooperate considering.  Or no, he would, but likely not gently.
And then Adam is moving again and Kalen sighs because on one hand amazing tequila and on the other he needs contact right now like he needs oxygen.  But he pushes back off Gallowglass a little, though he leaves the hand he'd braced on Gallowglass' ribs there as he picks up his shot.
"Hey, Kit.  We need a third?"  To Grace-Kit.  Of course.  Because that is not confusing at allllllllllll....

Grace
Ahh, she notices. The 'Kit' comes at her from seemingly nowhere (in the crowd, Grace is a lost cause) until she finds the voice. "Oh, Kalen! There you are," she says, like she'd been looking.
She slides her way up into a barstool beside Kalen. "Need a third what? Me?" Because that is not confusing at all either.
"Hi, Other-Kit," she says, and waves to Adam, once her brain processes that he's even there.

Gallowglass
He does begin to react to Kalen's hey, Kit as if Kalen was saying his name. Because he is; he has answered to Kit longer than he has answered to Dominic Adam Julian Gallowglass, after all, and more people call him Kit than any of those other (more important [more precious]) names. So:
He begins to react as if to his name. Then here's Grace, Other-Kiting him, and he looks bemused. The bemused expression is touched with something else, too; call it gladness, perhaps.
"Adam," he says, even though he knows Grace knows. "If anyone is the Other-Kit, it's you. I have the rights of a first-born." He sounds like he is joking; he is joking. He has had one shot of tequila and it hasn't mellowed him but he is relaxed enough, Adam is. To answer her question, he holds up the shot he hasn't yet had.
"How are you, Grace? And Kalen, do not think your sleepy murmurmings and general laidbackness will put me off. How is Kharisma? Are you still in contact with her?"
Kalen needs contact. Physical contact, right now; but Adam, he thinks about other contacts. Friends.

Kalen Holliday
"Yeah.  She's in Denver when she isn't off with her band.  I told you she sings now?  She sings now."  He holds his shot of tequila, waiting to see if Grace will join them.
He can't really drop his head back onto Gallowglass' shoulder, but he leans into his side a little.  Sure, he's already searching for ways to pawn Kalen off onto someone else, but right now he's here.  And for Kalen, who just figured out that friends were a thing he could have, just that seems magical.

Grace
"Okay, fine, you're Kit and I'm Other-Kit. I wasn't the one who came up with the Name," Grace says, poking Kalen in the rib with an elbow (not hard, not violent -- call it pretend violence).
"I'm fantastic. Or at least somewhat fantastic," she says, draping her arms across the bar as though she owns it. "Surviving. It's great, really."
But do note, she does not reach for a glass with those flopped arms. It's not something she has against alcohol, really. Honest.
"Oh, none for me. You go on ahead," she says.

Gallowglass
[Stamina, yo!]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (2, 10) ( success x 1 )

Gallowglass
"Perhaps she and Sera will play together," Adam says, of Kharisma's current occupation; and then he downs the shot, such a waste of good tequila, but not really a waste, no. This time his eyes water more furiously, and blinks once. Twice. Three times. Three times to be certain of himself. He does not have the urge to vomit. This is excellent; he can hold his liquor now! Wait until dad finds out. Adam looks quietly pleased with himself and says, "You missed her set," to Grace.
Follows it with, "And oh, reminded, I've wanted to schedule a Ginger date with you, but I've been very busy. Can you come by the shop tomorrow by any chance?"

Kalen Holliday
Kalen takes his shot and his eyes close for a second but because it is amazing.  He doesn't drop his head back onto Gallowglass' shoulder, but he stays close, one hand and a little of his weight still resting on Gallowglass' elaborately engraved armor side listening to the sounds of the tides of battle shifting - surging - flowing back and forth like tides Gallowglass and Grace make plans.
He almost does drop his head back onto Gallowglass' shoulder for a few seconds, because there are half-remembered bits of dreams and blood and screams and this image of battle and the scattered glimpses into battles that will happen and memories of battles that have happened...he really should stop closing his eyes.
There.  Open.  Open is better.

Grace
"Sure, sure. I'll make a note of it," she says to Adam. There's no way she'd turn down such a request.
"Who are we talking about?" Grace adds, because she is somewhat lost in the topics of conversation. Also, it seems like Kalen is trying to drape himself over Adam and fall asleep. There are two secret cats in this place, because Kalen wants to curl up.
He twitches in his sleep. Sometimes (often) more than that. When he opens his eyes again, she smiles.
Sometime, she's going to have to tell him. That's going to suck. Come July he might try to lock her up for her own protection -- no, he would never. But wouldn't she want him to is a question.

Gallowglass
"Kharisma," Adam says. The answer isn't meant to be short, but Adam is a quiet young man usually, and Kharisma is Kalen's story. "I'm rather surprised you two haven't met yet if she's in Denver." He's surprised because he presumes Kalen and Grace hang out a lot.
Kalen is drifting; Kalen is closing his eyes, is beginning to sink back onto Adam's shoulder, and Adam frowns slightly, reading whatever it is he reads in the other Hermetic's posture. Adam has been leaning against the bar, the C of his back just against the edge of it. Now he straightens, clapping a hand against Kalen's back; against his shoulder. His grip is firm (relentless), direct (of course), and he says, "Why don't we go try this karaoke thing instead? You can sing that awful song, what was it, the one with the fire."
The 'we' included Grace.

Kalen Holliday
Kalen laughs.  "That song is amazing.  You're just jealous there are so few bad ass songs about books."  He straightens as well, giving Gallowglass a light push just before he takes his hand off his side.  Look at that.  The not trying to curl up into him may or may not last, but for at least right now Kalen looks...well...still exhausted, but better.  Less haunted.

Gallowglass
[FADE... to karaoke? DUNDUNDUNNN.]

Sharing Naan and Knowledge

Kalen Holliday
Some of them, Kalen calls.  Because there are books to be had and connections to be made and because some people just came to the realization that they could have friends.  Did have friends.  Some of them already have access to the security system and have offices.  There are two resident Bengal cats still growing into their paws and two half resident Mages still growing into...whatever the hell kind of bizarrely evolving relationship Kalen and Grace have.
The two rectangular buildings are freshly painted the pale blue edging into gray of a late afternoon in summer that heralds a coming storm.  There are keypads and biometric locks on the doors to the buildings, which are solidly reinforced.  The office building is furnished with elegant (but not ornate) handcrafted solid wooden furniture.  Rich reds and golds in the upholstery.  There are small statues and original paintings in gilded frames and antique maps in more gilded frames.  There is only one full size statue, of a marble lion, which is in the conference room, which is not so much a conference room as a library.  You could arrange a sizable group of people there, but the current arrangement favors several clusters of people and not a single unified mass.  There are a few grouping of couches and chairs around low tables, and shelves that have an impressive number of books for the beginning stages of this project, but which are still largely empty because there are shelves on all the walls and splitting off little spaces with single chairs.
Thus far, most of the room's use has been by the cats.  But...hey.  No day like today to start changing that.  And so they are all brought, eventually here.  Where there is a table full of Indian takeout and coffee and tea and a bowl of dehydrated ice cream sandwiches because some things will just never fucking get old to Kalen.  (They should be glad he didn't decide they needed more piñatas.  Like he does.)
[I am so terrible at room description.  But look!  Floorplans!  http://www.active.iotasigmapi.org/node/6]

Grace Evans
[Nightmares!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (4, 6, 7, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday
[So distracted by setting post I forgot those!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 7) ( success x 1 )

Grace Evans
Grace was already here, or at least already at the Office. She's got a weekend ahead of her, and it made sense to get a good start on that.
In her room sits the beginnings of a strange project. There is her dutiful office plant (an ivy named Chloe) which now sports a framework made out of what looks like some kind of metal construction kit. There are a few cylindrical objects scattered around, as well as what look like small robot arms and tracks. Perhaps they're meant for the frame that surrounds the poor Chloe?
Anyway, it's yet another project. One that apparently has nothing to do with books. Or stalkers. Or school.
Kalen has plans for the day as well, and Indian takeout, and it's just about time for that little meeting, isn't it? So she abandons the toys and goes to visit him (and his dehydrated ice cream) in the library.
"Hey," she says, and slides into a chair, curling her feet up into it (because she's already shed her shoes in her office).

Alexander Brandt
There was a phone call from Kalen a little while ago, asking Alexander to stop by somewhere new.  The promise of books may not be as enticing to Alexander as it is to others, but the promise of meeting new people appeals.  He’s still new to the city and, apart from some of the people he works with, he’s a little short on friends in the area too.  So after a quick shower, he heads out on his bike.
And here he is, bike parked nearby.  A helmet with the sheen of being fresh out the packaging, containing a pair of leather gloves, is held in one hand.  A leather jacket, worn open, shows a tshirt underneath.  Black jeans and a pair of bike boots complete his outfit.  Alexander knocks on the door and paces around a little, wondering if he’d written the directions down right.  Heading out to some unmarked buildings in the middle of nowhere?  Good thing the man isn’t overly paranoid.  Yet.

Ryne Kelly
One would imagine that a high school senior might have more interesting (or at least... teenager-ish) things to do on a Friday evening, but such was evidently not the case where Ryne was concerned, because when he got the call from Kalen about the warehouse that was also an office that was also a library, his response was an enthusiastic yes.
It was a couple of hours after dinner-time that Ryne's blue VW Golf parked itself in front of the building. The kid unlatched his seatbelt and twisted around to rummage around the back seat for a moment, pulling a silver-trimmed navy blue messenger bag out from under the seat. His hair was a mess of soft curls when he stepped out into the chilled spring air, the breeze causing his coat to billow around him before he grabbed the sides and wrapped it more snugly about his torso.
He looked around while he walked to the door, taking in the property and the architecture of the building. Alex was already there when Ryne walked up, and the kid glanced up at the (significantly taller) man with a curious expression. "Hey."
The security at the front door made him pause, and he pulled out his phone to text Kalen.

I'm here. Is there a secret code or something?

Ryne Kelly
[Resonance-detection!]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 4, 8, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Alexander Brandt
[Ooh, dice!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Kalen Holliday
[Oh.  Dice.  Tell me how distracted Kalen is tonight by resonance.]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3, 7, 9) ( success x 2 )

Kalen Holliday
"Hey," he says back to Grace.  She notices the others before he does, which is hardly shocking given the amount of sleeping he didn't do last night.  He glances at his phone when it chirps, smiles faintly, and texts back: Hey.  I'm sending Grace to get you.  You're going to love Grace.
And then he turns to the only person in Denver he'll ask to go do things for him.  Like a minion.  Everyone should have at least one.  "Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit...do you want to go get our friends and bring them here?  Because it will take me like a million years to get them."  He lets his eyes get huge and all faux-pleading.

Grace Evans
She rolls her eyes at Kalen's fake pleads. "Yeah, yeah. Make me a coffee? With one of those rock-candy things in?" she says, and detangles herself from the chair.
Off to go invite in 'our friends'.
Which, she does, happily enough. She did get enough sleep last night.
The door cracks, then slides open for Ryne, and there is Grace, giving him a look she hopes says welcoming, but probably looks just plain awkward at the meeting of someone new. "Hi. I'm Grace. Kalen's upstairs."

Alexander Brandt
Alexander turns at the sound of the VW approaching, breaking the silence that surrounded building, and watches the younger man emerge from the car.  The sensation of fluidity tickles against Alexander, battling against the Frozen aura that surrounds him and putting him just a little on edge.
“Hey,” he replies, taking the other man in as he concentrates on his phone.  “Any idea how we get in?” he asks, just as the door opens a crack.  “Ah, like that.  Hi Grace.”  He stands and lets the other head in first.

Ryne Kelly
Ryne and Alexander were an interesting picture, when placed beside each other. One dynamic (fluid), one static (frozen.) And yet... ice and water were merely different states of the same element, were they not?
And despite their age difference (despite the fact that Ryne had the look of vivid and elfin youth about him, while Alex was older, more solid, and had probably experienced a great deal more of the world) they were both new to their abilities.
(People could wake up at any age.)
Ryne didn't seem especially phased by the solid chill he felt coming off of Alexander. If anything, he was interested. (All of this was interesting to him.) And when Grace opened the door, he looked up and met her gaze with alert, dark eyes.
"Hey." He smiled. "I'm Ryne."
And since Alexander seemed content to allow him to go first, Ryne stepped inside and made his way up the stairs to look for Kalen, following the faint prickle of the Hermetic's familiar, stormy resonance like a bloodhound follows a scent.

Kalen Holliday
Kalen is just finishing coffee for Grace as Ryne finds him.  He looks...well about the same as last Ryne saw him, which is abjectly exhausted and for some reason not just curling up to sleep anyway.  He waves at the food and the coffee and the tea.  "Hey.  Make yourself at home.  Food.  Coffee.  There are books.  People to meet."
He smiles a little as he finishes Grace's coffee and retreats to a couch with his coffee.  "One day, I'll have to take you to a circus."  The smile widens a little and his eyes flash with amusement.  "Of course, if I take you, it will be haunted or there will be extradimensional horrors or something.  Granted, I'm not sure all clowns aren't extradimensional horrors, so maybe that's actually a universal constant.  They would be just famished though, and there would undoubtedly be epic and cinematic and very confusing battles to the death in the funhouse."
"How are you?"
He half curls up into the corner of the couch.  "It's true.  Ask Grace.  Every time I take her anywhere it's a disaster."

Grace Evans
Grace lets them in, and then makes her way up the stairs. Perhaps she means to lead, but it seems as if Ryne knows the way anyway, following the buzz of ozone that Kalen leaves in his wake.
In any case, she arrives back at the library with her newbies in tow, and slips over to the table to pick up her coffee. It must be hers, right? It's got the rock-candy stirrer. Then, it's back to her seat again, to curl up into it, and wrap cold hands around her mug.
"I don't know. The last one wasn't a total disaster. We did good, I think."

Alexander Brandt
Alexander follows the other two through the building, trying to peer through doors as they pass.  Trying to figure out what goes on in this place, which must have taken a fair amount of cash to put together.  And it must hold something fairly important, given the security to get into it.
But they arrive at Kalen, his own Stormy resonance getting stronger as they work their way through the building.  “Hey, Kalen. You look... crap.  Have you slept at all since that other night?”
Alexander’s eyebrows rise a little.  He’s pretty sure they’re either joking not serious about haunted circuses and evil clowns.  Although there never did seem to be anything particularly cheerful about them, so maybe they really are all evil.    “The last visit to a circus wasn’t a disaster?  Or the last fight in one?”
Alexander sorts himself out a cup of black coffee, and waves the French press at the others in offer.  “I’m doing pretty well, thanks. Been playing with the coin a lot, and trying to figure out how the other things work out for me.  Getting there, I think.”

Ryne Kelly
Ryne made a face. "I kind of hate the circus, honestly." But his momentary distaste was washed away when he saw the selection of Indian takeout laid out on the table.
"Dude, you are so awesome." He dropped his bag by a chair and walked over to the food, helping himself to small portions of everything that didn't appear to contain any meat (although he ignored the dehydrated ice cream.) When he sat down on the sofa, he set his plate in his lap and ripped off a piece of naan, swirling it through a pool of sauce before he popped it into his mouth.
He'd already eaten dinner. It didn't matter.
"So um... how do you all know each other? I mean, did you just meet randomly or...?"

Alexander Brandt
[Bah - "He's pretty sure they're joking about haunted circuses..."  I can't proof my own typing. :$]

Kalen Holliday
"Well, then we're marginally safer from excursions involving extradimensional horror clowns."
He laughs at Alexander's greeting, then rolls his eyes.  "Ugh.  Don't remind me.  And there have been no fights in a circus.  Yet."
He watches Ryne fixing food with a faint smile.  "Mmmmmmm...so I met Grace at her college, much like I met you.  We played a guessing game about drupes and then I offered to teach her how to shoot.  She also may have had some initial concerns I was actually a serial killer."  There is a sudden flash a smile, because this next bit is just too perfect to drop on Ryne with no fucking explanation.
"Alexander I met while we were on our way to investigate a scarecrow of mysterious origin who turned out to be a manifested spirit who had come to ask us to come and hear the last words of a Mage who had been trapped in the spirit world but by the time we got to the spirit world he'd been dead for centuries because Time can be like that so we reached back through time, let him know through the vision that we'd come, took the book he left us, and came back.  He's...sort of The Messenger, but not precisely because...that might be enough of how we met.  But perhaps I should not explain the Avatar Storm right now."

Grace Evans
Grace snorts into her coffee, because Kalen is being himself, and this is a gleeful thing. "I did not think you were a serial killer, for the record."
Because that, of course, is the most interesting bit of verbiage that just came out of Kalen's mouth. Indeed.
She sets to drinking her coffee for a bit, and then joins Ryne in the making of a plate of naan and curry.

Alexander Brandt
“What’s a drupe?”  Alexander asks, as he picks up a bhaji  and leans on the back of a chair to nibble at it.  “Some kind of animal?”  Then, to Grace as well, “You guys shoot?  Let me know next time you go to a range, I’ll keep you company if you like.”
Kalen explains how they – Kalen and Grace – met him, watching the other man’s reaction.  As it comes to the end, he smiles sympathetically and holds out a plate.  “Samosa?”

Alexander Brandt
[To clarify - the smile and plate offering are to Ryne]

Ryne Kelly
Ryne grew still while Kalen spoke, momentarily forgetting his food while his mind tried to process the information that he was being given. A handful of different reactions shifted across his expressive face, revealing themselves in hints and fragments of muscle movement, but he was guarding himself enough that none of them stuck out as immediately obvious.
That he was... skeptical of some of the things he was hearing was more than a little likely. But what conclusions he ultimately drew about Kalen and the others from this information, he kept to himself.
He didn't... actually say anything, either. Just raised his eyebrows a little and nodded, then took a bite of his food. When Alexander offered him a samosa, he shook his head and picked one up from his own plate (it'd been hiding behind a mound vegetable vindaloo.)
"I'm good, thanks."

Kalen Holliday
Kalen laughs, then leans over to ruffle Ryne's hair.  "Sorry, Cloud.  Couldn't help it."
He settles back and takes a sip of his coffee, briefly studying the three of them.  "That's Grace, she's...been at this for long enough to have joined the Virtual Adepts, which are one of our Traditions, which are basically like factions.  I'll let her explain more about that.  But she's studied with them and with me and posssssssssibly with others....?  I didn't exactly ask her for a resume."
"And that is Alexander, who probably Awakened around the time you did, which is relatively recently.  I'm pretty sure the only reason he doesn't give me the same looks you do is because he's seen some really crazy things already.  I have no idea what his opinion on souls is."
"Kit, Alexander...this is Ryne.  He found out he was Awakened last I met him, when I accosted him in a coffee shop and took him home.  For reasons I cannot entirely determine, but likely involve having no sense of self preservation, he came out here to see books and meet you and learn all the things."
His attention turns to Alexander briefly.  "Oh.  We just use the one in the building over there."  He waves a hand lazily at where the other building sits, not that it's visible through the walls.

Grace Evans
"Drupes are fruits with a pit in them. Like cherries and apricots," Grace explains, and yet doesn't. Why does that have anything to do with anything?
"So you're saying you just let Kalen take you home, and then let him invite you to his scary warehouse? No sense of self-preservation. Riiight," Grace nods at Ryne. "Might want to fix that."
"He's not a serial killer. But still, man."
Grace nibbles on some naan dipped in deliciousness before continuing. "That's awesome though. Really, I mean it. You're Awake. What do you want to know first?"

Alexander Brandt
Alexander shrugs and puts the plate back on the table, unsure whether Ryne is taking everything in his stride, hiding it well that he isn’t, or doesn’t realise just how deep the rabbit hole goes – something he’s only starting to get an idea about himself.
“Last month, easy answer – souls don’t exist.  This month?  I know spirits exist now, but whether that’s the same thing as a soul?  I might need to spend some time with that priest friend of yours to figure that one out.”  He grabs another snack and his coffee cup and settles into a chair, shuffling a little to get comfortable.
He looks between Grace and Ryne as she talks.  “These guys know a whole lot more than I do, but I guess we’re pretty much in the same boat.  If you need any help with anything, though...”  Swings and roundabouts – people have been so kind, supporting him as he tries to figure out which way is up, that it’s only fair he passes on the favour.

Ryne Kelly
Ryne wrinkled his nose in mild indignation when Kalen ruffled his hair. He ran a hand through the soft mess of auburn waves, as though to even it out, but Ryne had the sort of obnoxiously perfect hair that looked good even when it was messy.
"Also walnuts and pecans," he added by way of an answer to Alexander's question. "A lot of things we think are nuts are technically drupes."
He didn't explain how or why he knew the answer to that question, but perhaps among this crowd, he didn't have to.
"I didn't think he was gonna hurt me," came the answer to Grace's question. "Anyway, I needed to find out what he knew. And see, now I get to meet you guys. So win-win."
He ripped off another piece of naan and looked between Alexander and Kalen. "You really think you saw a spirit?"

Kalen Holliday
.Kalen smiles at Ryne's question, rises carefully, and heads over to get more coffee.
He looks away from them before he starts speaking this time.  "Avatars and souls are intimately linked," he says, very softly.  Haunted.  "When we were dragged into the Umbra, what you felt was the fragments of Avatars which were shattered in...a cataclysmic event that proved the war with the Technocracy was...too costly for either side to continue.  Whether their souls are part of that...I am uncertain."
There is a slight pause, and then he blinks, picks up a rock candy stirrer for his coffee, and then heads back to the couch.  "By priest friend you mean Pan?  The one in Denver?  Have you met yet?  Anyway...you two can tell him about that adventure.  He's probably tired of hearing me talk."

Grace Evans
Spirit, sure. Or a daemon of Reality's OS. A piece of self-sustaining code, like the rest of us. Kalen speaks of the Avatars shattered. What they passed through, that felt like... like being flung through glass shards. Speaks of the War which is over (it is not over).
"How is the war ended when people are still being disappeared, though?" Grace asks, suddenly not so chipper. People like Gadfly, she means.
"This is why you don't just trust anyone you meet, Ryne. People who will hurt you will look nice enough at first. And when you're Awake, it's like a magnet for all the weird in the world to land at your doorstep. So just... be careful, okay?"

Alexander Brandt
“Ah.  Ok.”  Alexander doesn’t sound overly bothered about this new piece of information.  It could be useful for quiz machines or radio call-ins.  Otherwise?  Not so much.  But then Ryne asks about spirits.  He turns a little in the chair, tucking one leg under the other, to better face him.
“Before things went weird, I was just as sceptical as you sound.  Religion?  For the gullible.  Spirits?  New age rubbish, used by fakers to part the gullible with their money who told them what they wanted to hear.  ‘Oh yes, Granny is much happier now’.”  He rolls his eyes.  “I guess you could call me a practical kind of guy.  I need to see something to really believe in it.  So when I had something calling to me, trying to persuade me to jump through a rip I made into the spirit world?  That opened my eyes.  Then, with the scarecrow Kalen mentioned?”  He nods towards Kalen.  “When you’re pulled into a mirror world to this one, when you’re faced with what was essentially a dying man’s spirit which was slowly fading away after searching for help for who knows how long?  When you see creatures that exist there, that don’t exist here?”  He smiles again, emotions mixed at the memory – wonder at the potential, sadness that it had taken so long for the Sending to find who it was looking for, but happiness that its creator found his rest and the Sending its identity.  “I don’t think I’ve seen a spirit.  I know I have.“  There’s no doubt in his voice at all.
He takes a breath before answering Kalen.  “I’ve not met him yet, but you did mention your teleporting friend before.  And what else do you have tucked away here?”  Then, a third thought.  “Oh, when did you want me to take a look at his records?”

Ryne Kelly
"People are shitty. I knew that before I was Awake. You don't need to tell me to be careful, I get it."
(But did he though? Maybe he thought he did. Or maybe he had better instincts than people gave him credit for. Or maybe he was just a naive kid making empty reassurances.)
Alexander told his story, and Ryne listened, giving the man his full attention. Afterwards, he glanced down at his plate.
"That stuff you're talking about. Spirits and Avatars. They sound like memories." He spoke that last bit quietly (almost tentative,) before looking up and meeting Alexander's eyes. "I believe you. I'm just... wondering about it."
There was a certain thoughtful undertone to his words that seemed to imply not so much blatant disbelief as careful analysis.
"Tell me about the war."
(This last directed to the room at large.)

Kalen Holliday
"They certainly aren't unlike memories," Kalen says quietly.
"The war is...on a broad scale, over.  There isn't really peace.  There may never be.  But you don't need an all out war to have violence.  We had...a conflict of ideals.  Tradition Mages wanted wonder and magic and easing more and more of that back into a shared perception of Reality.  The Technocracy wanted to reinforce science, which...science is cool, but they were also for destroying magical creatures or Mages who didn't join them.
"It got bloody.  There are people who remember it.  Garrett.  I think probably Pan.  There was that other guy...I haven't really seen him again though. Garrett though...probably you shouldn't ask him.  He's...."  Well.  Grace has seen, but Kalen cannot bring himself to actually say just how at the edge of broken Garrett can be sometimes.

Grace Evans
"The Technocracy want to destroy the wonder in everything, including science," Grace scoffs. "They just want to control it all, including technology. My people try to fuck up that plan."
She glances over to Alexander, like she's unsure of how much to really go on about this. "Yeah, don't talk to Garrett about the War. He'll just scare you half to death."
Change the subject. Yeah, that ought to work.

Alexander Brandt
“I don’t really know much about it,” Alexander says picking at his samosa.  “I’ve been at this less than a month, and only picked up enough to know that it happened.  That, and they’re not the kind of people you want to be meeting if you can help it.  Beyond that,” he shrugs, “not a clue.  Before my time.  And there are plenty of other things to be careful of, too.  Vampires.  Scarecrows.”
He gives the younger man a smile before changing the subject slightly.  “What other memories do you have?  Weird ones, I mean.  Not growing-up-in-wherever memories.”

Ryne Kelly
Ryne frowned a little, eyebrows drawn together while he took in everything that Kalen told him. He couldn't quite help the little snort of derision that escaped his lips at the word: Technocracy.
"There's seriously a group of people who call themselves 'the Technocracy?' They sound like comic-book villains."
The war though... as a story, it had a familiar ring to it. You didn't really need to know about magic or Traditions or Technocrats to understand the basic human discord that lay at the heart of wars of ideology. History was littered with examples.
"So you guys really are like... different religions. Or philosophies."
Grace had said her people. As in, separate from Kalen's or Alexander's. (Traditions. These are words Ryne would remember, and some day place proper meaning to.)
Alexander asked him about his memories, and Ryne busied himself by putting a forkful of food into his mouth. It allowed enough time for him to gather his thoughts.
"Guess it depends on your definition of weird. I haven't seen anything like you've talked about."

Kalen Holliday
And Kalen, who hasn't mentioned how long he's been at this or how many weird stories he has, does not launch into storytime.  "As long as you don't call attention to yourself, you should be fine.  Don't send text messages or talk about things outright on phone lines that could be monitored, which is really almost all of them.  There are more people for you to meet, and...now that I think about it maybe I should give you the address for the church too.  Just in case."
Kalen smiles a little.  "I'm not sure how you'll get on with Pan.  But provided you're not leading a demon to eat his congregation, you should be okay to go to the church if you need something."

Grace Evans
"Just don't talk about anything weird at all using any form of digital communication. Phone, email, texts, anything. I'm sure you guys have heard about the ubiquitous wiretapping programs?" she looks between them all. "Did you ever think they were really after terrorists? Because how many have they caught so far? Zero. I'm sure they've caught plenty of us though."
She swirls some naan around in sauce, and uses it like a spoon to scoop up some curry. Pops it in her mouth whole, taking a far too big bite.
She turns to Ryne with a sad look to her. "Mm sorry. I know fiff is all a little frange," she says, mouth full. Then she resumes chewing fast. Perhaps a bit self-conscious at her lack of manners.

Alexander Brandt
Not that Alexander had, as far as he could remember, talked about anything overly strange over the phone when talking to the others he’d been in contact with, but nobody had mentioned that little fact – that Big Brother was listening.  Oh, he vaguely knew about the whole wiretapping-against-terrorists thing, anyone who’s ever read a newspaper had.  But now that she mentions it...  Alexander slides his phone out of his pocket, turns it off, then tucks it away again.
“Different philosophies, I guess.  I’m told they love arguing amongst themselves, anyway.  But I was given a bit of advice that seems to be good.”  He looks at Kalen.  “Get yourself sorted out before you start worrying about which gang to join.  They’re not going anywhere.”  Samosa finished, he wraps both hands around his coffee mug to warm his cold hands.
Looking back at Ryne, he continues.  “I guess anything the average man off the street would give you strange looks for talking about.  Like, you know... spirits and avatars.”

Ryne Kelly
Something about Grace acknowledging the absurdity of their conversation combined with the visual absurdity of her speaking around a mouthful of curry caused a brief bout of laughter to issue from Ryne's throat. The kid set his plate of food down on the coffee table and bent forward with a hand on his mouth.
"What the hell is strange anymore? I don't even know."
But of course, he understood what the others meant by their warnings, and when he looked up to acknowledge Alexander he gave a soft nod.
"What happens if they do find me?"

Kalen Holliday
"Sometimes you die.  Sometimes you join them.  From everything I've heard...I'm not sure which is the merciful option, but I lean toward the death one."  He smiles.  "Don't worry too much.  We don't run into them often.  I've seen more fatal car crashes than Technocracy agents.  But cautious, but realize the world isn't ending tomorrow.
"Well...probably.  I suppose it could.  But it's no more likely than before you heard about all this.  The world has always been dangerous, but the sun rose all the same.  It seems bigger and wilder and maybe scarier, but it's still the same world.  You just see more of it."

Grace Evans
Grace listens while Kalen speaks words he's told her before. About how the world was always dangerous, and she was only blind to it before. Yes, this is true. Difficult to accept perhaps, but she wants it to be true.
Looking back over to Ryne, who has yet to experience anything more strange than... likely this conversation? Poor guy.
"You'll know strange when you see it. You'll feel it, if you're lucky. Same as you can feel us, because we're also strange," she smiles.

Alexander Brandt
What is strange these days?  Good question.  “Yeah, it’s hard to miss strange.  If you’re lucky, you’ll have others around to help work through it.  If you’re really lucky, they’ll stop you doing anything too stupid.”  Like jumping into the Umbra?  Yeah, like that.  “Weird things do seem to attract us, and that does include others like us.  Lucky coincidences of us happening to be in the same place seem to come around nine times out of ten.  But, then, if it has teeth, claws, and an attitude worse than its breath, probably best to get away if you’re alone.“
He takes a sip of coffee, remembering some other advice.  “I was told to try to avoid being alone.  Trying to work all this out is hard enough with others helping you out.  Without them?  I’m told its doable.  But it’s a lot harder, and you’re at more risk from the bad guys.”

Alexander Brandt
[[Oops, missed a bit - 'Good question.  Others seem to treat crazy strange the same as taking out the trash.  Maybe strange is this year's normal.']]

Ryne Kelly
"That's not what it felt like though. It was more like... when you're trying to figure something out, but it's not working. And then one day... you just get it. And everything is different."
He'd said things to Kalen in the privacy of the Hermetic's home and during a bout of awed excitement that he seemed reluctant to admit here - though whether it was because he was worried how they might sound or because he felt protective of those experiences wasn't really clear. Kalen himself hadn't really heard the complete story - just hints and snippets. Maybe he was wondering when (or if) Ryne would bring them up on his own.
"I try to keep my head loose. And then... I can see more. Flow to a different place on the timeline. Or touch someone else's mind. We spend so much time building walls. Trying to like, create these rigid definitions that separate everything. But it's bullshit. Reality is a unified field."

Kalen Holliday
Kalen smiles at Ryne's explanation.  Which is...familiar.  "Definitely keeping you," he says with a soft laugh.  "Very definitely."
He glances over at Grace and smiles faintly.  "And yeah.  I'm soooooooooooo introducing him to Lena.  Have you two talked yet?  I know she wants to talk."
"Anyone have any direct questions?"

Grace Evans
Grace smiles at Ryne. Maybe she likes this one, yes? Unified field? Like the unified field theory? Well, that is one way to look at it, certainly.
But then, her face drops, eyes a touch wide at Kalen. "She what? I'm sorry, last time I talked with her, she made it sound like she never wanted to speak to me again."
Which would mean, no, Grace has not talked with Lena yet.

Alexander Brandt
“It sounds like there are worse ways to wake up.”  He rubs his head, remembering the truck...  “Certainly more painful ones.”    Then Ryne starts talking about a unified field, which starts to lose Alexander – sounds like science, which isn’t his thing.  But Kalen and Grace do seem to get it, so he relaxes back on the chair and listens to them talk.  The parts about flowing through time sounds interesting.
Any specific question?  Alexander shrugs at that, nothing’s coming to mind at the moment.

Ryne Kelly
"Dude, I've got about a thousand of them," he laughed in response to Kalen's inquiry. "Seriously, if you let me I will pick your brain apart."
Ryne unzipped his hoodie and slid his arms through the sleeves, dropping it over the sofa's arm-rest. Underneath he had on a plain white t-shirt that did little to disguise how delicately built he was. The knobs of his spine showed through the thin fabric. Anyone looked at the back of the kid's neck might notice the upper part of a still-healing tattoo on the back of his neck. An ouroboros: drawn simply as a black snake swallowing its own tail.
"How was it for you guys? Waking up?"

Ryne Kelly
[Edit: "Anyone who looked at the back of the kid's neck might notice the upper part of a still-healing tattoo."]

Kalen Holliday
"I was walking down the street, and I noticed someone was following me.  Now, there were a number of reasons someone might be following me, and none of them were good, so I was planning to get into this place I knew about underground.  Like...six blocks out from there I stopped because all the fallen leaves swept up into wild paaterns and I could just sense all of the possibilities of...eternity.
"And then those sharpened into immediate danger, and I turned and there was the guy who'd been following me.  Except he had fangs and his skin looked like melted wax.  He lunged at me, and he was fast.  Faster than normal people could be, but I knew where he would be, so I was never there anymore.
"And then I tripped him into the path of an oncoming truck.  And I thought that would be the end of it, there was that wet sound of snapping bones, but it got up on the other side of the street.
So I ran.  I ran past where I'd been going and I kept running and eventually I crashed into Kharisma.  And...that was I met the first of the Awakened I knew."

Grace Evans
Grace does not yet notice the tattoo, because she's facing people's faces, not the backs of them. At least for now, it'll go without a remark. However, his question...
"Well, like I said, mine came in a vision. I'd been hearing this humming noise all day, and then I got lost in the mountains. Couldn't find my way back to Denver. And I looked on Google Maps, and it pointed me to this power station out in the middle of nowhere, because that makes total sense, right?
I get there, and the hum is so loud. Electric, you know. I look up, and suddenly everything's... very strange. Apparently I was standing there looking at the roof of a power station for like 10 minutes or so, and this guy tells me I have to leave, and I must be high and whatever," she laughs. "But afterward, I knew exactly how to get home. Like the source code of the universe just did a massive memory dump right into my brain, and then... I just knew."

Alexander Brandt
The tattoo may be seen, but it’s not really noticed.  Lots of people have them, so nothing unusual there. 
“I’m not sure if this first part is related, but I started out dreaming.  There was snow, a storm blew up, then I heard someone calling for help.  A couple of strange people appeared.  Then I woke up.”  He shrugs, still not sure whether it was part of it all or just a random dream.  “The world seemed... brighter, I guess.  But I ended up having the absolutely shittiest luck you could imagine all day.  Things broke.  I came off my bike on a patch of ice on a sunny day.  I tried getting an injured bird out the way of a truck.”  Alexander pauses for a minute, the memories still fresh.  He’s looking down, staring at the carpet as he continues.  “I lost my grip.  It went under a wheel.  I heard it die.  But I fell too, following it.  Thought that was going to be it, until I opened my eyes and saw the wheel a couple of feet from my head.  I’d managed to freeze time, at least for a little while.  Then there was the tear into the Umbra that I’d opened up too, with something trying to call me too.  And seeing how everything linked together, all the potential.”
He takes a long drink of coffee before finishing.  “I thought I had gone mad.  None of that could have been real.  So I very nearly did jump through.”  He looks up at Ryne.  “What’s the worst that could have happened, right?  It wasn’t really there.  Which would probably have been it for me.  But Sera found me and managed to stop me.  Persuaded me that it was all real.  Really helped me out.”

Ryne Kelly
"Yeah, see, that's what I was talking about." Ryne smiled brightly at Grace. "It's like tapping into this limitless well. Or a river, maybe. It always feels to me like it's moving."
To Kalen he said, "For what it's worth, I'm glad you got away." And this time the smile was a little more tentative. When he shifted his attention to Alexander, he cocked his head a little and said "Who knows though. Maybe it would have just been a different beginning."
Maybe. Probably better he didn't have to find out.
Ryne swept up a couple of generous scoops of his food, then stood and walked back to the table, munching thoughtfully on a sauce-soaked samosa that he held between his thumb and index finger. A little of the sauce started to drip down the side, and he caught it with his tongue.
"How many of us are in Denver, anyway?"
Kalen had seen Ryne drink coffee before, but he avoided it now, moving instead to brew himself a cup of black tea. (It went better with the food.)

Kalen Holliday
He can't help it.  The resulting expressions (and that tentative smile) are too adorable.  He ruffles Ryne's hair again.  "Me too.  I am way too pretty to risk getting turned into one of those things.  Ewwwwwww....."  He makes a face, crinkling up his nose.  The stark contrast between Kalen when there is danger and Kalen in this moment, exhausted and playing with Ryne...it's probably going to be a shock the first time Ryne sees it.  Of course, to Alexander Kalen playing might be more the shock.  At least he's seen an intermediate form of expression.
"Maybe...more than a dozen.  I'm not totally sure how many more.  Some people drift away.  Some don't really interact with the rest of us as a whole.  My first mentors are in town, but they're...not really affiliated with the chantry."

Grace Evans
While Ryne is busying himself with food and tea, Grace did catch a look at his neck, at that tattoo.
"Oh... shiiiit," she said, eyes growing a bit wide. "And as this circular movement required no feet, the universe was created without legs and without feet.
"Listen, uh... Ryne. You ever hear of a Bandit? Or The Bandit perhaps?"

Alexander Brandt
“Maybe,” is all Alexander says to the suggestion of a new start.  He withdraws a little from the conversation; fading into the background, thinking more of that first day Awake.  Of just how low he was at the time, to even think about jumping.  Of... other things.  He sighs quietly, watching Kalen play a little with Ryne.  The difference in Kalen doesn’t really register though.
The name Bandit isn’t at all familiar, so he just listens for now.

Ryne Kelly
Ryne shot Grace an odd look while he waited for his tea to steep, tapping one foot lazily behind the other as he leaned against the table on one arm.
"Um... no?" The question was less an issue of uncertainty (he would have remembered [he remembered everything]) than of confusion at the nature of Grace's sudden interest and concern. "Why? Something to do with my tattoo?"
(Because he knew the quote she'd just spouted.)
Drawing attention to the mark made him more acutely aware of the healing itch that still occasionally struck his nerves there. Unconsciously, he reached back to scratch it before stopping his hand and diverting the energy to a patch of skin on his shoulder (as though to scratch by proxy.)

Kalen Holliday
Kalen rises and heads over to refill his coffee, letting Grace and Ryne discuss the tattoo.  He swipes one of the rock candy stirrers and swirls it lazily through his coffee and leans into Alexander's space a little to murmur to him, though he doesn't touch him this time.

Grace Evans
"I'm kind of... in uh..." Grace's eyes wander, like she's trying to find the words to explain this, especially to someone new.
"I'm in irregular, odd contact with a manifestation of an ouroboros. Or someone pretending to be, for shits and giggles. Not sure what yet," she explains.
"It's like, a game. Only, a mystical one. And I'm supposed to be looking out for signs, just like... you know," she points to his neck.
She looks over to Kalen, "It's something I ran across on that forum I cr...found."

Alexander Brandt
Alexander looks up as Kalen approaches.  He doesn’t pull back, or try to increase the distance between them as the other man leans in.  There is an attempt at a grateful smile, and a few muttered words back.

Ryne Kelly
"Oh." Ryne seemed to contemplate this for a moment before he pulled the bag out of his tea. "Well who knows. Maybe it's connected somehow and I just don't know it."
Or maybe it was a coincidence.
(It was probably a coincidence.)
"I totally wanna hear more about this though." He grabbed one of the dehydrated ice cream sandwiches, because why the fuck not. (Ryne was about to regret that decision.) "Care to share?" The smile he afforded Grace had the same innately endearing charm that Kalen had seen when Ryne tried to pry information out of him on their past visit.
Of course, Grace could answer or not, as she chose. If not, Ryne would (grudgingly) move on to another topic of conversation. Because there were always more questions and he never seemed to tire of asking them.
At some point, he'd probably ask about the chantry (since Kalen had brought it up.)
And the evening wound its way into night, though Ryne, with his seemingly boundless teenage energy, scarcely noticed. And eventually the group would either fall asleep where they were or break apart to head their separate ways - as these things go.
...But not before Ryne weaseled his way into Kalen's book collection.

Kalen Holliday
[Mmmmmmmm...because for wrap post....]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 1, 2, 2, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )

Kalen Holliday
He watches Ryne asking questions, though he seems mostly disinterested in answering questions at the moment.  The others drift off to other places (most likely) and after that he watches Ryne investigate the books for awhile before he does fall asleep.
And not peacefully.  There is twitching.  And murmuring.  No screaming, no thrashing.  Kalen sleeping is far less dramatic than Kalen awake.  But definitely not peaceful.

Grace Evans
"I don't know if I want to drag you into it, Ryne. I say it's a game, sure, but it's... I didn't ask to play. And I'm not sure it's benevolent in nature," she says, speaking of the game as if it were an entity.
She glances over to Kalen. Of course he'll  have to know eventually. But best to let him try to get good sleep for now, if he can.
"I'm more and more convinced it's not benevolent in nature, really. It's also watching me. But if you want, I could show you what I've found..."

Alexander Brandt
Conversation happens, but Alexander is only really half-listening to it.  Not brooding, so much.  More...  becoming Frozen again.  He really just wants to be elsewhere.  Not necessarily anywhere in particular – although that peak overlooking the city may just appeal – but more just away.  And so he makes his excuses – something vague about having things he needs to get done – and leaves the others to it.

Working Together (Part 2)

anrkyangel
Continuation of last time.  From an email from Jess:
Poison??????????? becomes:
The Poisoned Cup. Better be careful here. And the prediction is as follows:
Verdancy Ascendant + [long string of numbers = July]. Pin-Point July. First shadows go long and lightning in shadows? Lightning or electric shocks? The metal will react. That will happen for the rest to happen + snark a lot of snark + noodles? I think this will be v d4ng3r + Sleeper Cyclops. The cup is the danger but is it touching the cup or is it drinking the cup = will she drink? I think that she will drink even tho remembering I think that the ?? bees what the fuck the bees will still sing that song. The bees are going to sing after the shadows spark that will be the end of it. But first loss? Lost. Lost memory book-opened up. I predict eyes not These but other eyes and they will move like a stutter or fucking shaky cam? Not alone I predict that shoes and shadowless and ok after that a period of rest. Hibernation. Hiding, but only if the eyes are watching. Poisoned cup I wonder. Too much there and gum on the shoes sticky. NO FIREWORKS THO. More darkness tenebrous than anything. Address? [There is an address here - it is for a restaurant near the University.]

anrkyangel
They may not work in total sync with each other, but it is by their powers combined that the Virtual Adepts break apart that code and make some sense of it.
And what the untangled code reveals is...
Words scroll across the window of Grace's screen:
These are about you, G.  What do you think?

Grace
July. This hasn't happened yet.
Grace types, and she sounds clear-headed in the text, but textual communication hides body language. On her bed, she's curling toes in thought, looking angrily at the screen. And under that? A little bit of creeped out, yeah.
I mean it sounds like it's all metaphors and whatnot, just like the Starbuxx Wyrms entry. But poison? I think I know what a lot of snark and noodles means though. Man Candy.
There's some more doing, as Grace looks up the address, and finds the restaurant. Will she be poisoned there?
What are the fucking bees?
Would be nice to grab her Adversary and perhaps obtain some Cliff's Notes to this prophesy, no?
Why would they be looking into my future anyway? What's so important about some n00b you're stalking that you'd start prophesying their future? Isn't this all a bit, I don't know, obsessive?

anrkyangel
You sure?
Riley doesn't know about LAST July, does she?  No, she couldn't...could she?
But hey, she's been harping on Grace all night to consider all the possibilities, right?  And besides:
There's a thread for 2014 and 2015.  This wasn't in it.
She, too, looks up the address for the restaurant and starts to consider setting up her own surveillance, but hmm.  What is she even looking for?  Jesus, Ghost, could you have been more cryptic?
The answer, of course, is yes.  But the euphoria of the chase is starting to wear off again.  Luckily, that inability to see into Grace's space (because Riley doesn't wish it, doesn't need it) goes both ways.  Just as Riley can't see Grace's toes curling in thought, she can't see Riley making this face: à² _à²
[please Jove, take it and don't fuck it up]

Grace
I'm sure. Of course, doesn't mean it's this July. Could be any future July. Or maybe something from my past I really really don't remember. But I think before I woke up, I would definitely have remembered the shadows spouting lightning. Or whatever that really means.
This last July was fairly quiet. Only real amazing thing that happened was that I Awakened.
So long ago. Like a lifetime ago, thinking back, at how the very idea of being poisoned, or being delivered a message like this one would have seemed so alien to her. Now, it registers on the Weird-O-Meter, but definitely not to the maxxed-out position.
I wouldn't refer to that as a poisoned cup, v d4ng3r.

anrkyangel
RE: Prophesying:  Destinations are often a surprise to the destined.  -- Neil Gaiman, The Kindly Ones
Doubt it'd be from before you Woke Up, tho maybe?  I can't look around in Time (yet) so couldn't say.
No fireworks, could be July 4th, could just mean any significant event.
In the meantime we need to get you protected from prying eyes.
Yes, "we."  Like it or not, Grace Evans, you've got an angel of anarchy looking over your shoulder.  But will she be a guardian, or will she continue to wreak havoc in Grace's life?
I can set a firewall around your place, & in the meantime we can work on leveling your Corr skillz so you can do it yourself.  Up to you tho.
So, again, Grace is offered a choice.  By all appearances it's up to her to let Riley continue to help out or not.  But could she really shut the other VA out?  Only one way to find out.

Grace
There's a thing. She doesn't want to give Riley the keys to the castle. The castle being a secret warehouse/office compound with biometric locks on the doors (which she has been known to practically live in). That's Kalen's place. Technically.
And this apartment is hers, for all that the walls don't speak of a person who lives there.
I'd like to learn how to do it myself, but I'm not against help. Got to pay me back somehow, don't you?
I have to ask though. Have you ever seen anything like this before? The whole, forum thing? This isn't some other initiation hazing ritual, is it?

anrkyangel
Pay you back for what?
It's the internet, G, the new unknown frontier.  New outlands.  Never know what kinda outlaws you'll find out there.

Grace
For making me miss all my midterms.
I got a cool new job though, so you don't have to have any (ha) guilt about how I had to quit my old one due to absenteeism. They sucked anyway.
Grace bites her lip, starts clicking shit again on the forum, despite this probably being a bit unwise. She knows that. But still...
I don't know if I'm up to more predictions. Going to wear myself out at this rate. You want to poke around elsewhere?

anrkyangel
Hah
You're on the brink of such great power, Grace Evans
You'll be able to reshape reality
You'll be able to remake the world as we know it
And you're worried about midterms
What were you studying?
And no, not tonight.  Need to clear Agents of SHIELD out've my DVR lol

Grace
Machine learning. Independent study in simulations. Advanced Topics: Augmented Reality.
I liked the sound of that last one.
Grace sighs. And you know, maybe Riley is right. It just feels wrong to give up on a goal like that. To stop going for an education. To stop being a student, and be... what? An adult?
No. A mage. And only a mage. Like Kalen, the man who wants to take her on a trip to Austrialia, just so he'll have something in his life that isn't mystical. Something they can talk about in public without turning fifty heads. There's life, and then there's the other life.
Someone once told me I could try to hold on to both of my lives, and it might be worth it. But it would be hard.

anrkyangel
Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty -- Teddy Roosevelt, lady
Awakened life ain't easy.  Sleeper life ain't easy.  But you can mix both and have an amazing time regardless, but you have to be willing to fight, tooth and nail, for your happiness.
There is a pause of a few seconds, and then:
My advice to you, G:  Shut off your computer.  Take a bath.  Read a book about penguins.  Try to get some sleep.
Now you must excuse me, I have five hours of secret government agents poking at alien tech and the night isn't getting any younger.
Good work tonight.

Grace
Sleep is overrated.
Sleep? There was a time Grace would have said sleep is for the weak. No, sleep is for those strong enough to deal with Hydra's scars, waiting in the darkness.
Penguins -- Not overrated.
Thanks.
You too.

anrkyangel
-- End Transmission --
[aka WRAP!]

Working Together Part 1 (Ghost Wheel Storyline)

Grace
A few weeks ago, Grace's quest to find out what the Hell was up with the mysterious, Awakened, creepy online stalker she'd managed to acquire came to an abrupt halt. She ran into a Wall, just when she'd sat down to try to peruse the contents of the stalker's (cracked) forum.
That sucked.
One quest was replaced with another, this one a bit less malicious, a bit more tedious, and a lot more frustrating. It's no secret to most who saw her that Grace turned to griping, moaning, and sometimes not sleeping during the couple of weeks wherein she had to break some complicated encryption by hand in order to get her computer back.
That being said, despite the utter barbarism inflicted upon her, despite how the idea of crawling back to anrkyangel and asking for help galls a bit...
Creepy online stalker is creepy.
One of the first things Grace did when she got her computer back was glance at that forum download, and while Kalen may be a great help for bringing Lebanese food and a gun, there's nothing to shoot here. There's nowhere to aim. And she's becoming less and less convinced that her stalker's apparent cuteness and playfulness doesn't mask some terrible purpose.
So, she texts a number that was placed in her phone -- the one with the name of a person she does not know.
Grace: Hey, you said if I wanted to meet you, I could contact this number. Consider yourself contacted.

anrkyangel
The number that Grace messages belongs to one Riley Poole, Virtual Adept and Cypherpunk known to the rest of the Tradition by the handle anrkyangel.  With a name like that, what could Grace possibly be expecting?  This mystery person who has so far only communicated with the apprentice via hijacked lines and hacking into her electronics, already told the woman that they could help, that they wanted to help, but Grace needed to accept the invitation into the Tradition in order for that help to be of any real use to her.
She'd accepted, but from the looks of things she still holds a grudge for, you know, getting inducted into the Virtual Adepts and being swept out of the sights of that Ghost Wheel persona.  But Riley knows she's still considered the lesser of two evils.  Time will tell how that will end up working out for Grace.
There has been no contact whatsover, one Virutal Adept to the other, since Grace was officially declared one, and Riley has not been waiting at all.  She has other things to do besides wait by the phone for that momentous day when Grace finally deigns to reach out to her.  That much is obvious when it takes almost a day for there to be a reply to that first baby step toward working together.
I did indeed, consider your contact received

Grace
Grace is a busy person already, but the chance at furthering her goals makes her itch to answer back. It only takes about a half hour before anrkyangel gets a response (because hey, this one time, a professor of hers doing a demonstration took somebody's phone and poured liquid nitrogen on it as punishment for in-class texting, you know.)
Grace: You have an idea where we should go, or should I just hand over my address (who am I kidding, you probably already know it).

anrkyangel
Not a day, but more than a few hours pass between Grace's message and the reply:
First meet at your place ho ho are we feeling frisky? ;)
And then a few seconds later:
Srsly tho passssssss who knows what li'l "presents" you & your man candy made me.  Your place my place, too personal/private.  Where else?

Grace
Grace: Man candy? He will be so pleased. Honestly, no sarcasm. I did want to have a private conversation, though. The board's not swept. Pieces still in play, you just put the game on pause for a while.
This time, the text appears just a few seconds later, like Grace has found somewhere to chill while waiting for Riley.

anrkyangel
Duh, sweetheart.  The game was back on the second you got back online.  What did you expect?  For your new specter pal to get bored and wander off while you were gone?
That response comes within minutes, who knows why.

Grace
Grace: Considering what they've done so far, no. I really wasn't expecting that at all. But you made it sound like you'd done me a huge favor and made them go away, or at least 'swept me off the board' as you put it.
There's a pause there, maybe Riley can get another message in between these, who knows, but regardless, Grace will send the next bit.
Grace: I have some game data to share. Is why privacy. Why I'm getting in touch.

Grace
[Ohh crap. I forgot Nightmares!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (1, 2, 3, 5, 5, 7) ( success x 1 )

anrkyangel
Riley does not slip in a note between messages.  Clearly she is in no rush.
You being OFFLINE was you off the board.  Never said it was permanent lolol  You're a clever girl, G, but assumptions will be the death of your intellect.
A short while after Grace's message, she gets:
Oh ho ho so the wunderkind is finally ready for a helping hand?

Grace
Guh. Infuriating. How was that supposed to be something Grace should be thankful for? It's a good thing the internet hides body language, or the weariness, the frustration, it would all be so overwhelmingly apparent.
Grace: If you're ready to help.

anrkyangel
That's the funny thing about the Virtual Adepts, particularly anyone at even one level higher than Grace is currently.  Riley has seen Grace from afar.  Not often, not in any compromising positions (because other people's personal business is ew ew ew ew ew).  She - at least up until Grace figured out how to break down The Wall - peeked in from time to time to check her progress and before that to make sure no one else slipped in and tried to claim this little gem.  It's how she found out about Ghost Wheel and Kalen and that not-too-shabby laptop of Grace's.
Riley is not checking in on her now, true, but there ways to tell when someone's being a bit, well, weird.
Like Grace asking if Riley is "ready to help" when the person on the other end of that invisible line has said she can and will help.  Supposedly Grace accepted that offer when she clicked the button and agreed to be a Virtual Adept, but then all that time went by with no word from the apprentice.
Hmm I forget, what'd I say last time?
[Corr 2: Secure Connection: diff 5 -2 (unique focus)]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (5, 10) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Grace
Grace: A bunch of words. Words, words, words.
A pause again, and then she comes back.
Grace: I'm being mean. Didn't sleep too well last night. You said you'd help, so here I am begging the queen for alms, okay?

anrkyangel
During that pause there is no response.  Maybe anrkyangel, the mysterious Riley Poole, has finally closed up shop and walked away.
Oh, but then that second message comes through, and the response is nearly instantaneous.
Nice recovery! :D
And what is this?  Another quick response.
Methinks face time is not in our immediately future, but give me a few and we'll have ourselves as secure a connection as it gets.
And it does take a while before Riley gives the all-clear, but in the meantime:
Sorry to hear about the sleep thing.  Caffeine junkie?  Or some other thing?  I won't judge, Scout's honor.
[extending!  going for 7 total suxx @_@]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (4, 6) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Grace
Some other thing. Waiting for your connection.
She's going to leave it at that, at least until the secure connection comes around. Because what she has to share involves the reason why she can't sleep at night anymore. Going to have to broach that one.
Creepy stalker, why couldn't you be nice?

anrkyangel
When it comes to personal stuff, sometimes it's harder to talk to a bunch of text on a screen.  Then again, sometimes it's much, much easier.  Not many people would fault Ginny Weasley for confiding in Tom Riddle's diary.
Though Riley's curiosity is a bit piqued, she's not going to dig at Grace, at least not until they can be sure their connection is secured.  Or well, Riley will be sure, Grace will just have to trust her.  Which one might suppose is step one in their quest to work together on Ghost Wheel.
Things are quiet for a few minutes longer.
[final extension.  no WP because NO GUTS NO GLORY YOU CAN DO IT RILEY]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (2, 6) ( success x 1 )

anrkyangel
[and then I don't know int+computer for a mundane connection?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 9, 10) ( success x 5 )

anrkyangel
[and then an int+larceny]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 9, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Grace
Trust is more enforced by the evil outsiders, the Black Hats, the NSA, whatever you want to call Them than anything else. Grace trusts that if they are going to indeed get crazy with the conversation that Riley wouldn't want her own name to end up on a watch list.
That'll do a lot to engender some trust in a person, no?
In any case, she waits. And waits a bit more. Wants to ask if everything's ready yet, but that sounds too much like the little kid in the back of the car going "Are we there yet?" and so...
She's sitting on her bed in her apartment, by the way, should anyone be so bold as to look in (or through) with her laptop up, the spread of info gathered so far on the Fallacy of Impulse displayed. And her phone with those messages lies alongside.

anrkyangel
Names are such flexible and impermanent things.  What is in a name?  Riley is Riley and also anrkyangel and others, too.  Other names for other things.  Other names in and for other lives.  There are names that Riley would not want known to the Black Hats, but this one?  This one she probably wouldn't mind them hearing about at some point a little while down the road.  Maybe.
Finally, after a good bit longer than "a few""
And we're good!  No force in the 'Verse can crack into this line.  For a few hours at least.

Grace
Okay, I'm going to point you to a few things on my end. Some of this might be infected. Beware the pictures and audio files, but even some bits of text I've read here and there have been enough to twinge the neurons a bit.
And I have reason to believe this person/people are not friendly.
First things first, I'll give you the email I sent Man Candy on the night you hit me with the Wall.

And yes, she does, although it's obviously edited to protect the innocent.

///////////// TO: Man Candy -- FROM: G /////////////////
Problem
I advise you not to look too deeply into these sites. Don't run their files. Remember Thakinyan in the movie?

[Link to Problem #1 -- an Amazon listing under the name L. Marshall selling a PDF of short stories]
[Link to Problem #2 -- a blog called Turingtopia, with links the actual L. Marshall site listed as "My old site." Has a decidedly 90's feel to it, with Magic Eye pictures and crappy graphics.]
[Link to Problem #3 -- a website called L. Marshall's Theory of the Essential Fallacy of Impulse]

So that you don't have to guess or go poking around on these evilly-designed pieces of crap with potential viruses, mundane and otherwise, I'll lay out to you why there is a problem.
L. Marshall is my pen name, and those are my stories. Someone out there is pretending to be me. That wouldn't be a problem, if they weren't being so creepy about it. Example, this is a bio from the Fake L. Marshall:

L. Marshall lives by the mountains. By the mountains lives L. Marshall. L. Marshall goes to school. The school goes to L. Marshall. L. Marshall knew Richard Cory, Richard Corey knew L. Marshall. L. Marshall wrote The Turing Test [link]. L. The Turing Test is writing L. Marshall. Open source the physical world. The physical world is open source. L. Marshall is a Libertarian and a Vegan and [redacted -- bad mojo. Something about how L Marshall is watching you, ooooo.][Grace: Creepy]. L. Marshall has been sentenced to be The Turing Test. [Grace: The Turing Test was my story about Alan Turing's death by poison. Sentenced to death by poison?] L. Marshall does not like cats. The Cat in the Hat is a X_X Cy-Borg Zombie. L. Marshall does not write. L. Marshall is the only unbreakable code: already broken.

Richard Cory
Edwin Arlington Robinson
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
'Good-morning,' and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Ideas

• It sounds like I got someone's attention. They could be some random weirdo.
• It could be an attempt by Gadfly to contact me when he can't through normal channels? It's a stretch, but this does have Gadfly written all over it, so I don't know.
• It could be a trap.
• It could be another Virtual Adept keen on playing some sort of game. In which case, I hope they don't mind getting FedExed some plastic monkeys, a corkscrew, and a Valentine's Day card from Richard Cory, because two can play this weird-ass game.

Plans
I'm going to go do some research and find out who this person actually is. If I am dealing with some Awakened person here, it could be dangerous. There are some veiled threats to me in some of the passages I've run across on these sites, so somebody's being cute or they're being intentionally scary.
So, that being said, if something happens to me in the next 24 hours -- it was probably due to this shit right here. I'll keep you advised.

///////////////// END EMAIL ///////////////////

So, that was the start of it. They've been a bit obsessive about me from the beginning, no? So, then I went and did a bit of looking, a bit of searching, and I ran across this password-protected forum called the "Essential Fallacy of Impulse" that was not linked on any of the sites I was specifically pointed to.
That being said, I take everything in this forum to be a bit suspect, just because of how easy it was to crack. Like they were expecting this, and feeding me information. I hit it with a web spider, downloaded all the links in the place before Stalkery Stalker could boot me out and erase it all.

/////// Fallacy of Impulse ///////

L Marshall's Fallacy
[ a pass word protected forum ]

--The forum is a forum of many forums:
The Dungeon
L. Marshall
Electric Sheep
X_X
The Oubliette
Hello, is anyone out there?
Game FAQs

--The many forums also have sub-forums
The Dungeon
- Trapped Forever
- Old Threads
L. Marshall
- Virtue Girl
- Predictions
Electric Sheep
- Phantasmagorgasmica
- Untz Untz Untz
X_X
- there is nothing here
The Oubliette
- Delorean
- 1066-7

--(Then there are threads not within the subforums. Not many, but a couple.)
capriciousrebel
NeptunezMighty
alltheserafeem
VoidCalibrator
Solomon Jones
Hello, is anyone out there?
you guys know the deal
- HI. [one thread: 7 pages.]
Game FAQs
Spread The Word, Suckers. It's Already Too Late.
- Essential Fallacy of Impulse
- Cowboys and Indians
- Orobourus
- .HACKTOFF.
- .GHOSTB1GB4DPROPHETZ.
- Sin.
- Other

anrkyangel
Grace is trying to protect the innocent, an attempt that Riley finds delightful.  Obviously she knows of his existence and at the very least she is aware that he's in the Order of Hermes.  Whatever else she knows is (probably not much) unknown, but it probably involves his name (Kalen, nothing more and nothing less).  She is not about to break it to Grace that her attempt, though admirable, is unnecessary.
Which is a reason for putting off face time for a little while longer at least.  Now that they're getting down to the business of Ghost Wheel, business that Riley admitted pushed up her timetable for the Wall, there are certain things that it certainly would not do for Grace to find out.  And she would find them out, because Riley has no discernible poker face.  First thing she would notice if she said to Riley's face that she thinks this person/people are not friendly is that Riley's eyes would light up and she would try her hardest not to grin or laugh but oh, how thoroughly and completely she would fail.
So she dips into that connection between them and - here is another thing that Grace doesn't know, but Riley's not on a mobile device, or if she was she isn't anymore.  Not since she stretched that connection security across the city.  Grace is at home on her laptop and Riley is...well she's elsewhere, working with something much more powerful and advanced, a system which is so infused with her resonance that it feels like an inexorably shifting, mercurial thing.  It allows her to work her magic more effectively, and gives her something of a ringside seat to Grace's desktop.
She takes a screenshot of that email exchange, and looks over the page.
And Grace's phone buzzes with incoming messages, which appear to happen live while Riley reads down through the text.
Hm do you think Turing Test just means...you know, Turing Test?  Testing you for intelligent thought.
Is that giving things away?  Hm.  And then:
Turing was one of us, you know.  US us.  Back before we split from the Union.
You don't like cats?  Only lamers don't like cats, G
Nice catch, tho.  Full disclosure: When The Wall shut you down I tried tracking your little admirer.  They're good, I couldn't catch 'em
It's text, but even in text those words almost seem to glow with a kind of confidence.  If anrkyangel couldn't catch them then they MUST be pretty damn good.
The way I figure it, this person's after you so this is your show, I'm here for backup.  You tell me what you want me to do.

Grace
I love cats, for the record, and I am not a damned Libertarian either. I think Fake L. Marshall is talking about themselves half the time.
So, now comes to the not-so-fun part. I was poking around on the forum results, and I found this little 'gem'.

Grace pops up a link on the forum, one filled with 'predictions':

////////////// Fallacy of Impulse ///////////////

> Predictions
>>>> Carnival
- a post that seems to have been wiped. It's just blank with an ASCII picture of a mask.
>>>> Dragons????
- a post (posted by L Marshall) that reads like a short story L Marshall might've written where-in the point is that God is Dead and Tech is King but the Techs are actually Dragons. It reads as a short story, sure: but it also reads like a dream about things to come. There's something about men who are machines.
>>>> Starbuxx Wyrmz
- this one is 'funny.' The post reads: wyrmz in the blood | don't drink the coffee | will drink the coffee | mind will split, fracture | war? | necessary?
>>>> Poison???????????
- this is another post that seems to have been wiped and replaced with incomprehensible code. [To crack it will require something Magicky + an Intelligence Enigmas (or Intelligence Linguistics) roll diff 8.]
>>>> 2014
- this is another post that seems to have been wiped and replaced with incomprehensible code. [To crack it will require something Magicky + an Intelligence Enigmas (or Intelligence Linguistics) roll diff 9. Threshold: 3 successes]
>>>> 2015 - It's The End of the World As You Know It
- same as "Poison????????"

/////////////// END ////////////////

I wanted to figure out what they had 'predicted' about me. Seems like someone's had their eye on me for a long time and have quite the long view of things, because some of those I remember. Some of them, I do not. They really are 'predicting' things about me.
Also, one of those predictions is a pretty glaring 'fuck you' to me. It's one that's already happened. The one that's 'funny'.
This is a long story, but I figure as long as this is a good, secure connection, why not?
It was a little bit past when Gadfly disappeared, so soon after that I was still expecting him to just pop in sometime, you know? I was going out with a friend of mine, and she wanted to go to Starbucks for some god-awful reason. So I went. It was Ada Lovelace day, I remember. Anyway, we were approached by this lady who wanted to introduce herself, and then immediately left. Weird, right? A few minutes later, we were both stung by robotic wasps.
It was called the Hydra virus. It was engineered to kill Awakened individuals. Couldn't heal it through normal means, and your immune system helped it spread -- because each time the cells were 'killed' they just split into two like a hydra's head getting lopped off. Wyrms in the coffee.
It caused symptoms of hemorrhagic fever, along with an especially fun bit where it 'fractured your mind' and you started hallucinating your eventual death over and over again, probably to prevent anyone who had it from really doing much about their condition.
This is what they call 'funny'. This is why I came to you. They're big, they're probably bad, and I'm in over my head.
I almost died, some of my friends were kidnapped, experimented on, and almost died, but one of them happens to be a fucking awesome biologist and she found a cure for it. And then we rescued our buddies, and I had got to watch my enemies die screaming in their burning lab. None of that was funny exactly.
My personal feeling is, if that's what this person/people think is funny, what are they willing to inflict for the lulz?

Grace
It could be a test of my intelligence, sure. The scrambled prediction labeled "Poison????" seems to indicate otherwise. I've been a bit pessimistic lately when it comes to dealing with people who won't be up front with me. I'm sure you can possibly figure out why.
Gadfly taught me a thing or two before he disappeared. I know the history. I know what really happened. I didn't at the time I wrote that story.

anrkyangel
You know funny doesn't always mean ha-ha, G
Merry ol' Webster says: affording light mirth & laughter, b: seeking or intended to amuse
Also: differing from the ordinary in a suspicious, perplexing, quaint, or eccentric way (peculiar)
Also also: involving trickery or deception
Don't look at one side of the stone, G
VAs take the stone and turn it turn it turn it turn it and then we break it and we turn over every shard and we break it and we turn over all those shards and on and on and away we go
Leaves us with a lot of dust, not many friends, but oh so much delicious understanding
Unless they're a Cyberpunk, then they're just assholes blowing up shit for fun and profit
There is a brief pause, and then:
Honestly not trying to be a dick here, G.  Just try to keep your mind open to the possibilities.  Such as:  Sbux's 2013 Q4 earnings were $452+ MILL.  Lots of people drinking coffee these days.  War:  Virus targeting Awakened, war on us?  Necessary?: Is it really?
Sorry about the Hydra stuff, that sounds rough.  Scientist in the ranks, though, sure she's safe?
Because seriously, an Awakened scientist?  That is some Technocracy shit right there, just chillin' among the free voices.  What the ever-loving fuck is going on in this city, does no one have EYES, does no one THINK?
Which ones are predictions, which ones not?
And while she asks, her fingers fly over her keyboard as she checks out that Poison?????????? entry's code jumble.

[int+enigmas first!  COME ON RILEY EARN YOUR NEXT DOT IN CRYPTANALYSIS]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (4, 5, 5, 6) ( fail )

anrkyangel
[oh yeah, that failure would probably require a thing]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 4, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Grace
Oh oh oh, and now she's going to call Sid a Technocrat? The anger, it threatens to bubble over a bit at that one. Calm yourself. Okay okay.
Does 'put down bunch of Technocrat consors' scream Technocrat to you? Because that's what my Awakened scientist friend did. She's an Orphan. She's trusted. She saved my life, so yeah, safe.
I'm keeping my mind open. I haven't decided yet on where this road leads is all. Right now I'm leaning more and more toward 'this is not fucking cool' though.
Carnival and Starbuxx Wyrmz have already taken place. Dragons has not. The others are encrypted, and seem to be in the future anyway.
It's not like Grace can't figure out that Riley's trying to crack the code. Really, Grace has had a lot of practice at code cracking lately, although it involved way way too much writing on physical paper. So, she tries her hand at it as well.
Race you to the finish line.
Challenge. A prodding, if you will. Don't want to let the n00b beat you, do you anrkyangel?

[int+enigmas! Come on Grace, show this l33t woman what you can do when you have a computer!]
Dice: 5 d10 TN8 (2, 4, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )

s4turn4poc4lypse
Grace almost has it; Grace knows that she almost has it; she can fit it into her mind, can see how it will fit, can See How It Will Fit, but it doesn't quite stay:
side-shift, scramble: o. b. f. u. s. c. a. t. e. 
Not through it yet, kid. But getting there; starting to understand.

anrkyangel
[WP: Riley are you going to be smart or will you be goaded into trying at a higher diff?]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

anrkyangel
Sounds like your 'long' story was missing a few details
Is all she has to say about the Technocrat Consors that were not mentioned previously.  And oh, if Grace could only see the so far faceless stranger who is anrkyangel smile when she asserts that she is keeping her mind open, honest honest.  It's really more of a grin, but then it's gone because Riley tries to take a crack at that code and it doesn't immediately click for her and that is frustrating.  And a frustrated Riley is better off all the way away from Grace just then because even though she does not blindly tear apart her set-up (a thought that keeps her from doing just that (her baby! her darling! the only thing in the world she loves (other than [redacted]))) she is still, at least for a few more minutes, pissed.
She is cooling cooling cooled off as she reads through the rest of Grace's side of the conversation.  Carnival and Starbucks happened, dragons hm?
If half the time other-L is talking about themselves, could have happened to them?
That makes her curious but honestly not too much, all things considered.
And then Grace is trying to goad her into a race to crack that code and Riley laughs out loud with delight that translates into:
roflmao we're working TOGETHER, sweetheart!
Grace doesn't have to know that Riley failed her own attempt, hm mm nope nope nope.  While Grace attacks the code, Riley swings at it from a different direction.

[Scanning: Mind 1]
Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (8, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Grace
The code is wicked, and something tingles at the back of her brain -- how it shifts. How it's not quite there, but only just. Like it's been hidden by more than just a normal crypto routine.
The black screen of doom awesome comes up on Grace's screen, the one where she can see the Code. Let's point it at that text, let's prod it a little.
She runs a routine [decode(strPoison)] a thing that fills her screen with white symbols on the black background. A thing which is looking for whatever it is that's hiding this text. Perhaps it will give a clue as to how to shed light on the hidden text.

[Prime 1: Watch the Weaving Code, WP because 1 in 10 chance of botch sucks]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (1) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

anrkyangel
[ D: ]

s4turn4poc4lypse
[the loneliest number]

Grace
[Grace, you were doing so well! D:]

s4turn4poc4lypse
Grace: How does watching the weaving look to her? What does she see; how does she input that data? This is what she sees, watching whatever it is that's keeping that code more-difficult-to-crack-than-it-would-normally-be (and it would normally be difficult - Grace: sharp as a tack) :
she sees a changing, ever-shifting pattern, Entropy and Mind wed together to cast a spell of inscrutabiity, of every-time-you-get-close, nope!, a change, not what you thought, attention-goes-that-a-way, and seeing it, she can start to figure out how perhaps to worm through it

anrkyangel
Riley runs a diagnostic of her own devising and she finds something interesting.  There is something there.  Not another Mind, exactly, but a maze put in place, a little dungeon crawl for the intellect that distorts and ugh
stop it, just
She has her own look at that delightful little bit of the Code, sees where it's been (purposely) tangled up, and she sets about undoing that damage.
[Mind/Corr something something, not sure on the spheres but with unique foci it's down to diff 3 anyway]
Dice: 2 d10 TN3 (2, 10) ( success x 1 )

anrkyangel
[int+enigmas! please please please please please don't botch!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (3, 4, 6, 6) ( fail )

anrkyangel
[again?  NO GUTS NO GLORY RILEY GO BIG OR GO HOME AGHHHHHHHH *hides face*]
Dice: 4 d10 TN9 (5, 6, 8, 10) ( success x 1 )

Grace
Her eyes lose focus, don't they? Looking past the text, looking deeper, until... until...
It freaking threatens to completely unravel, hard crash. She can see the errors popping up now, types a bit -- can't let those keep going for long, can we?
No, we really can't.
When it does finally click, it's like the symbols on her screen coalesce, they dance, they shift. They color-code themselves into her blue-for-the-mind and red-for-the-entropic -- like it's shifting and shuffling not the raw bits themselves but her mental perception of them. Yes, that would make sense.
Change of tactic.
[Mind+Entropy = Untangle the threads of my mental perceptions, thank you kindly.]
Dice: 1 d10 TN4 (4) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

anrkyangel
For Riley, at least when she's looking at one of her monitors, it's almost like a game that she sees.  A game that she is both playing and creating and taking apart all at once.  Type in some code, see the results, tear some more things apart again.
Hack and slash, baby, hack and slash.  She takes her digital scythe and she starts ripping through that snarl in the code.  Her frustration starts to melt into something else, something that it's probably best that Grace is somewhere else and cannot see.  Because for Grace this is personal and Riley, who is as snarky and arrogant as any Virtual Adept in the system, she also has a bit of a heart.  And she would not want Grace who is facing personal attack to see Riley who has offered her assistance (mentor, mm yes taste that word, feels like moonshine, rough and crude  and will knock you for a loop) smiling, no
grinning!
Because this is hard and how long has it been since one of Sherwood's own faced a real challenge?  Ah, it's like stretching one's legs after sitting sedentary for far, far too long.  It's like walking and then trotting and then breaking into a run.
And perhaps Grace is starting to feel it.  There is something pushing up into her computer, looking for that code from across a distance.  It is boundless, it is relentless, it is inexorable and there is no stopping it from seeping into Grace's space.
Somewhere far away Riley stares up at a monitor with eyes that refuse to blink lest she miss something important and her mouth is twisted into a wild, manic grin.
And she says aloud in a room all by her lonesome, "I am going to get you, you cheeky son of a bitch!"

[please don't let me down dice i am counting on you: int+enigmas diff 8]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (2, 2, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

s4turn4poc4lypse
[GOOD JOB PEOPLE!]

s4turn4poc4lypse
Grace and Riley:
They are very different Virtual Adepts. They have very different styles. They've both got style, undeniable that: but very different. They don't interact with this code the same way -- not at all: but it doesn't show. Not in the end. In the end, they get through it and decode it and understand it and illumination everything
[peacock eyes; opening; flowering, and a clear world]
is written out: Poison?????????? becomes:
The Poisoned Cup. Better be careful here. And the prediction is as follows:
[ooc: guys, guys! I had this written out but I can't find it and I am so sleepy! I can either BS a not-very-cool thing right now, or e-mail it to you once I dig around sommore/write something new up. *grin* I was not planning for the ST actively tonight you see, but tell me what you'd rather and I will do that thing!]

Grace
[OOC: Email us! I have to go to bed now anyway -- this is what I'd prefer at least. Cool-thing-later, because sleep is good X_X]

anrkyangel
[e-maillllll pllzzzzzzzzzzz......]