It's... a thing

Alyssa Solomon

Alyssa Solomon primarily works out of her apartment. She doesn't take a lot of meetings for her job here but it is known to happen and, well, it looks about how anyone who knows Alyssa might imagine. The place is small, but small suits exactly what she needs; she neither requires nor wants fancy or luxurious. Those take too much upkeep and if you have to move, you've lost a lot. The place is cluttered, but it's an organized kind of clutter in which everything is separated in a way that generally makes sense to Alyssa mroe than anyone else. Someone who gives it a quick glance might think that it was just a mess, but look closer and you'll see a system to the whole thing.

looks like it hasn't been lived in all that long; maybe a matter of months, certainly less than a year. But the clutter is impressive for that amount of time, and she certainly hasn't organized the place in a matter for visitors. A full bed is off to side of the room, far enough away from both the entryway and the screen door to the balcony that she can't be surprised by anyone coming in either. (That might be a little paranoid, since she's on the third floor, but when you're a mage..) The floor isn't carpeted but laminate; she chose the apartment specifically for that because it's easier to get your security deposit back if you don't have a lot of bleach spots dotting the floor. Also, it lets her use spray paint and candles without the need for concern that it won't ever come up. She does have a spot where there's a coffee table, a couch, an old worn easy chair and an old (CRT, not LCD) television, though the area is the least cluttered and thus probably doesn't get a lot of use.

Everywhere you look there are strange knick-knacks or piles of books. Next to the bed is an assortment of old paperbacks with the covers worn thin or missing; next to her desk is a set of old tomes in Latin. On the wall is a map of Denver with lines drawn this way and that, a bunch of color-headed pins stuck in. Pictures of people are taped to the wall next to it. The kitchenette are appears to be a place where she goes to microwave stuff or get drinks. And there are more than a few ashtrays around, in various states of being full. Currently sitting on the coffee table are several folders and another, smaller map with various notes drawn on it in English and Latin. Highlighter marks. Alyssa's been busy.

Oh, and there are also the seals drawn on the walls around the room. They're old, retraced a few times from the look of it and it's probably best not to guess what kind of ink was used in them. Alyssa is currently sitting on the couch in a black tank top and jeans, distinctly dressed down and make-up free. She's looking over the papers, making a couple of notes and frowning to herself. She told Alexander once that he should drop by sometime, so they can get to know each other a little better. This may well be that sort of day.

Alexander Brandt

[Magedar, just 'cos]

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

Alexander Brandt

How long ago had it been since that invitation to stop by had first been made? Weeks, at least. Then the voicemail last month, after bumping into Mellie and the strange man, suggested that they might have more to talk about than just having a coffee and shooting the breeze. Schedules being as they are, it’s just taken a little while for a good time to appear. And now is as good a time as any.

So here Alexander is, having ridden over from home. The bike is parked – and chained up – out on the main drag, where the high footfall should hopefully mean that it’s not likely to vanish without a trace. He’s in his biker gear, although the jacket is open to the waist and showing off a Cascade Range t-shirt that a tourist might have picked up. In one hand he’s carrying a helmet. In the other? A cardboard tray, holding a couple of cups of coffee from just down the road. Just because they have things to talk about, doesn’t mean that coffee can’t happen too. Not that he’s an addict. He just likes to have something to offer when he first visits someone at home.

Whether this is somewhere he’s expect Alyssa to live is probably a little too early to say, given the limited contact they’ve had so far. But he does wonder if she meant West Colfax rather than east. The feeling of wings and blood, though? That still takes a little getting used to, and the shudders a little as he catches it. But at least he knows he’s in the right place. Hands full, he knocks gently on the door with a foot.

Alyssa Solomon

[[Awarness!]]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 6, 8) ( success x 2 )

Alyssa Solomon

She recognizes Alexander's Resonance. That chill that descends over her wings, they are definitely familiar and while Alyssa may sometimes (on rare occasions) get names mixed up, she very rarely gets someone's magical feel wrong. And so she looks up from a passage she's reading from an EPA report, looks to the door just before she takes a drink from her Corona. Piss beer, Kalen has called it when he's gently teased (or mocked) her for drinking it. Once she explained why she does.

At any rate, recognizing that Resonance means that she doesn't pull her gun just in case. Alyssa is a careful woman, and she's never been one to discount the idea that the Union (or Nephandi, or others) might come kicking her door down one day. But she knows Alexander, and doubts she's about to get in trouble. So instead she walks to the door in bare feet and--after looking through the peephole (just in case) she opens it up, flashing him a grin.

"Officer, I swear I thought he was 18." There's a little wink and then she steps aside, pulling the door the rest of the way open. "Come on in. Forgive the mess. How are you?"

Alexander Brandt

“Well as long as you have a photocopy of his driver’s licence to prove it.” Alyssa gets a smile at the unusual greeting, as he holds the tray of coffees up for Alyssa to take one if she wants. If she doesn’t? Well a couple of bucks won’t kill the bank and he’d probably just drink it himself anyway.

He steps through the door and, for a moment, pauses as he sees the walls. Dried blood isn’t something he’s any stranger to, but usually in a puddle. Not intentionally painted in patterns that he doesn’t recognise. He assumes that it’s Alyssa’s blood adorning the walls – it would certainly fit in with her Resonance anyway – and walks the rest of the way in. Alexander takes a look around the rest of the room while Alyssa closes the door. The map on the wall grabs his attention and he takes a step closer to better see it. Glances at the photos, in case any of them look familiar. Given their respective lines of work, there’s likely going to be some crossover. But then there’s no knowing how old the photos or the lines on the map have been there. Cold cases, maybe?

“I’m doing ok, thanks. Happy that the world is crazier, rather than me. Keeping busy, and not just in the mundane sense. And still thinking about Kalen’s invitation from before.” The cabal? Yeah, he’s not forgotten about it. But learning to stand on his own feet without falling flat on his face has been more important. Besides, he said at the time that he needed to get to know the others better first. No time like the present. Alexander turns back to Alyssa. “How about you? Keeping out of trouble, Miss Solomon?” There’s a smile along with the gentle teasing back as he tilts his head down and looks up at her – all he’d need is the half-moon glasses to complete the impression of an old teacher.

Alyssa Solomon

The map that Alexander moves to and looks at contains what appear to be her private eye cases, but specifically the ones with potential supernatural implications. Hauntings, young men and women who are missing that may have been nabbed up by a cult, that sort of thing. Interspersed are various seemingly random locations...at least until you look closer and see how random they aren't. The Chantry in Morrison has a pin in it, unlabeled and uncolored. There's a pin that just says Millie, and one that reads Carnevale (the latter in the Santa Fe Arts District). The words are on little divider stickers that stuck by the pins. It's an assortment of random occurances and other such things...but then, nothing is really random to Alyssa.

"Sorry, I didn't clean up," she says with a little half-smirk when she sees him pause at noticing the walls. "I usually throw up posters when I know company's dropping by. Anyway, I'm good. Never keeping out of trouble, but always keeping busy. You know how it is. Thanks," she says, the final word intoned as she takes the offered coffee. Never look a gift of caffeine in the mouth.

She shuts the door and moves back over to the couch, stacking up all the papers to clear them away. "Still thinking about it, eh? I can get that. A lot of pros and potential cons there. Especially, I imagine, for a detective who's still figuring out where he stands in the magical mileu of Denver."

Alexander Brandt

Alexander smiles a little as he spots the Millie pin on the map. “She said that you guys had met. Millie, I mean. I bumped into her last month. She said I should ask you about a guy called Connor too. She seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for him.” The other pins – except for the Chantry – don’t have any obvious meaning to Alexander and pass without comment.

Alexander turns from the map to set his helmet down by the armchair. The tray is carefully put on the table, if there’s an empty spot away from anything that might not appreciate spilled coffee, and he shrugs out of his jacket which gets laid over the back of the chair. Sitting, he pulls his cup out of the tray and takes a sip. “Not a problem,” he says about not having cleaned up. “It’s your place, I just wasn’t expecting it. What are they for?” There’s another questions hanging, but which goes unasked. He’s happy with the assumption that the blood used to mark the walls is Alyssa’s, but what if it isn’t..? Does he really want to know?

“Oh, I’m no detective. One day, maybe, but I’m just a beat cop really. Any detecting I do is purely as an amateur. I pick up bits and pieces, catch sight of an occasional report or two. But that’s about it. I’m starting to get the feeling that there’s a lot more that goes on around here than the force really has its eyes open to, though. I guess that’s what Kalen meant about there being things that the police aren’t really geared up to deal with.”

Alyssa Solomon

She can't help but grin when Alexander mentions Connor. To this day it still bewilders her that she and the newly-Awakened drug dealer ended up in a mentor/student relationship. They're deeply different people, but that's the way it works sometimes. There's a little chuckle form the goth woman before she shrugs.

"Connor's a good kid. I think you and he would probably be pretty much oil and water. His activities are less legal than even most of us Awakened. Nothing really harmful though." And she leaves it there because ignorance is usually bliss for the cops.

She's used to being asked about the wards by people who know to ask, and she shrugs as she leans back. "They're protective. Keep the place free from being spied on, and there's one I can use in a pinch to get more on an even playing field if spirits come in with bad intentions. Basically, they're my version of an armory. You know, besides the physical weapons."

Alexander mentions that he's not a detective, and she grins a little bit. "I wasn't talking about what it says on your shirt, Alexander. We're not defined by how we pay the bills, after all. You're right though." There's a little less tease here. "There are worlds more than the authorities have their eyes on. And most of the few authorities that do know...well, we probably don't want them to know that we know. They're usually Technocrats as a rule."

Alexander Brandt

Ignorance does make things rather simpler at times, so he’s happy to let the conversation about Connor drop. If they happen to bump into each other, then they’d have to see what happens. But he does add one last piece to that train of conversation. “Well, meeting him couldn’t go much worse than my first encounter with our not-so-friendly neighbourhood priest.” Not unless guns and handcuffs became involved, at least.

Alexander looks a lot more interested when Alyssa mentions spirits, and getting on a more equal footing with them. “That was one of the things I’d been hoping to talk to you about, actually. Spirits, I mean. It seems that I have some... leanings in that direction, but none of the others I see around really know much about it all. It’s hard enough trying to figure out what’s going on when you’re trying to work with something that doesn’t have its own thoughts on the matter. How does that one work? Is it something I could learn to do?” The thought of that first day Awake, with a spirit trying to lure him through into the Umbra? That’s probably the kind of thing he needs his own armory to deal with.

“A lot of people do define themselves by what they do to pay the bills. I’ve probably been guilty of that myself, at least before everything came more into focus. But what you said about the Technocracy... Do you think that they’re involved with the DPD?” Not that he’d been shouting about the new view on the world that he’s picked up, but it’s good to know how cautious to be. A thought of the voicemail that Alyssa left comes to mind. “Speaking of detectoring, you mentioned something about a case you’re working on that my encounter with Weird might have something to do with?”

Alyssa Solomon

True story: guns have been involved when Connor's been around. They weren't because of him, though; they were because of Kalen and Alyssa being wary sorts and not having met each other before the Hermetic showed up at her door. That Connor was there had no impact on the weaponry. But still...guns.

She listens with interest when he talks about having interest in spirits, taking a sip from her coffee. "It is something you could learn to do," she says as she sets the coffee down and reaches for her cigarettes. "Eventually. I can definitely help you get there, though. Spirits are creatures of a very different color than people. There's a lot more variety. Some of them are completely single-minded, focused on one purpose or what aspect of life. Some are a lot like us...mostly the dead, really, like Millie. And then there are things like Thakinyan, the Umbral Lord that the others had to deal with. Don't know if they've told you about him. They can be far more complex than your average person. I can definitely help you with learning to use spiritual magic though, and the more mundane knowledge. Which is just as important.

"As for the DPD..." She shrugs, popping one of the smokes into her mouth. It's a regular cigarette; no menthol, no clove, no pot. "I have no idea. I've not been around to look, but it wouldn't surprise me at all. The Union likes being in positions of authority. Makes their job easier. It's important to realize that they aren't actually in control of everything though. They seem like it sometimes, but...they're not everywhere. So they might, or they might not." She looks at him then pointedly, as she flicks the lighter to life. "If I were you, I'd play it safe though."

He asks him about the case and the encounter, and her eyes light up in an entirely different way than her cigarette did. "Oh, right! So." She starts looking through her files. "You said there was something about decay, right? That sounds familiar. I'm tracking down a missing girl, an environmental activist. She was looking into some kind of toxin being dumped in the water and hasn't been heard since. I'm pretty sure there's something magical involved based on my preliminary investigations, and an element of decay...well, that sounds like it could fit. What did you run across, exactly?"

Alexander Brandt

Alexander sits up, sipping his coffee, as she skims lightly over the world of spirits. “I’ve met a couple, so far. Mellie. A... guy, I guess, goes by The Message. And something else.” He smiles at Mellie’s name, although it fades into wistfulness at the mention of The Message. It’s gone completely at the end. “When I Woke Up? There was something there, trying to get me to get closer to a tear into the Umbra. I don’t know what would have happened if it had, but Sera managed to... stop me, before I did anything too stupid. So I think I’ve been pretty lucky in who, or what, I’ve bumped into. But I have been completely clueless each time, and it’s something I do want to know more about. I’ve not heard of Thakinyan, though. What’s an Umbral Lord?” And so it begins...

The others had already told him enough to be cautious about where and how he talks about things, and that being spotted or overheard by the wrong person could bring a whole lot of attention that nobody wants to have around. So he’s under no illusion that turning into “that weird guy who thinks he can talk with ghosts” would be a very bad thing. “I’ll try to avoid anything overly odd during working hours, but I really can’t promise anything.” He shrugs, almost resigned to ‘whatever happens, happens’. “If nothing else, I’ve found that oddness does have a habit of grabbing us without warning, though.”

He settles back in the chair, getting comfortable. He may well have tucked his legs under him, but those boots aren’t comfortable to sit on. “I’m still not entirely sure what it was, you know. There was this... almost like the Resonance we all seem to have, but it didn’t seem to be coming from anyone or anything in particular. It was just this feeling of damp and decay. Almost like the forest in autumn, I guess, when everything is dying down for the winter. But there was this guy. I’d never met him before, no idea who he was and I’ve not been able to find out anything about him.” He laughs a little to himself, more of a detective then he gives himself credit for? “He looked normal, physically. But doing the spirit thing,” he wiggles his fingers, as he’d seen one or two of the others do when talking about magic, “he was covered in green dust, and looked like he was rotting.” He shrugs. “More than that, I can’t really tell you. Mellie was yelling at me to run away, and that seemed like a really good idea at the time. One thing she did say, though, was that this thing kills people. And that he wasn’t the first it’s taken.”

He thinks for a minute before continuing. “I have an idea where that water might be. I don’t know about anything toxic, but there have been some people missing down around Littleton. And some strange deaths down that way too, around Chatfield Lake and the reservoir to the north of it. From what I gathered, it looks like they had drowned but the actual cause of death hasn’t been identified. It wasn’t by drowning, though.”

Another shrug. “Any help?”

Alyssa Solomon

"It does," she says with a nod. She had listened quietly through the whole thing, taking in all the details. Her only activity was picking up a pad of paper and pen and jotting down some notes. Damp & Decay. Looked normal but Umbrally covered in dust. Rotting. "I already had an idea that it was Chatfield, but this definitely confirms that your situation and mine are connected. And that gives me something to go off of."

She lets that go for a moment, but just for a moment. She'll get back to it. First...questions. She flips a piece of paper on the pad to a clean sheet, smiling a little. "An Umbral Lord is exactly how it sounds. The spirit world...we call it the Umbra. The other world. The way history tells it, it didn't use to be separated from our world. The Gauntlet, the wall in-between...it was thing, or non-existent in some places. The more people stopped believing in the spirits, the thicker that it got. And there were other factors too, but...you get the idea."

She starts to sketch out a really quick drawing. A circle, labeled Earth. A fuzzy line scratched around it, with a line from it titled Penumbra. Outside of that the word Umbra is sketched. "This is, in very basic terms, kind of how it works. You have the spiritual world that is sort of a reflection of this one, called the Penumbra. Everything outside of it is the many reals out there. There's almost no point listing even a selection; they're infinite. The lands of the dead, the Astral Plane, everything else...it's out there. Far, far out is the Deep Umbra, where things are so alien that it's nothing we would even comprehend. Amidst all of this are little pocket worlds. Umbral Lords rule these realms, or live way out in the Deep Umbra. They're very powerful and often insane. Or at least, their way of thinking is so alien to ours as to seem insane."

Alexander Brandt

Alexander moves over from the chair to the empty seat on the couch, all the better the look at what Alyssa is drawing on the paper. He listens to the explanation, picking up on the parts that nobody had explained yet. “The Gauntlet – is that anything to do with the Avatar Storm?” He shivers a little at the memory of being dragged through it, even if he wasn’t affected as badly as others. “Although the way you said it, I guess the Gauntlet was there first?” That it became thicker? “So it’s like when we try to do anything too far outside of what people believe is possible? It gets harder, and reality hits back? So people don’t believe in spirits anymore, so it gets harder to get through to them.” See, this is why he prefers learning from people rather than books. You can’t try to work stuff through and then ask if you’ve done it right – books don’t answer back.

The lands of the dead... “I was wondering what happened when somebody died. I mean, what happens to the spirit? I guess they go somewhere, otherwise the whole city would be crowded when I’ve looked through the looking glass. But then why is Mellie still here? Is the spirit the same as the Avatar?” Hopefully Alyssa doesn’t mind answering questions, because there could be an awful lot of them. It seems like Spirit mages are a little short in the city, so the chance to begin figuring some of this stuff out? It’s too good an opportunity to miss. “Do spirits have the same problems coming here that we do crossing over to them? And those Lords? Why do they come here, if we’re as strange to them as they are to us?”

Alyssa Solomon

"They have any number of reasons. Usually known just to them." She smiles a bit and shrugs, tapping ash into a nearby tray. "In some cases they want to get back to this world, or maybe they want to destroy everything for some reason or another. Maybe they want to spread peace to the world through mental domination--or just spread peace through peace, though they're very rarely here for a good reason. What's important, and is fortunate to us, is that in most Umbral Lords' cases they can't get here. Paradox holds them back, as does the Gauntlet. All those stories you've heard of Faustian deals, or Things That Should Not Be...Lovecraft stories, all that kind of thing..."

She can't help it; she grins. "Well, most of them are fiction. But they came from somewhere, and the original stories...sometimes they're grounded in reality.

"As to their problems...it's a little different." She leans back and sets the pad down. "Like I said, Paradox says they don't exist, so they can't stay here long. Disbelief is problematic to them. Sometimes you'll encounter creatures from a different age....Bygones. They have that problem too. And the deadlands...well. I don't know where most of them go, but the ones that stay here? Near as I can tell, it's usually because they've got something tying them here. Strong attachments that keep them from shuffling onward."

She sighs then. The worst part...the Avatar Storm. "So, the Avatar Storm. That's relatively new. It's...sort of a long story." She stands up then, walks over to the kitchen to get herself a new beer. "Long story short, back at the end of the twentieth century a bunch of shit went down. We still don't understand a lot of it, but that's when the Avatar Storm happened. Several chantries in the Umbra were destroyed, and our Umbral headquarters Horizon was devastated. The Avatar Storm...we don't generally know why exactly, but fragments of countless Avatars were stuck in the Gauntlet. That's what happened there and why it is so dangerous to pass through."

A pause. "You want one?"

Alexander Brandt

“Please,” he replies to the offer of beer.

“So, that spirit when I Woke Up? The one that was trying to get me to come closer? That was its way of trying to get across into this world?” Which opens up a new trail of questioning. “What... would have happened if I had? Do they tie themselves to people to stay here?” Then, what happens to them after..? The more Alexander learns, the more he realises how lucky he was to walk away.

“Do ghosts want to stay, then? Unfinished work, wanting to see the kids grow up, that kind of thing? Or can they be forced to hang around, even if they don’t want to?” He’s wondering what it is that keeps Mellie around, and if there’s any way of asking that isn’t likely to upset her. But if it’s not always by choice that ghosts are hanging around, then presumably there are some that need help to find their rest. His thoughts drift towards The Message again, wondering what happened to him.

He looks back at Alyssa when he realises that he’s been wool-gathering. “Leonhard – have you met him? – tried explaining some of this. He said the Technocracy did something that caused the storm, but I don’t think he really knew what it was either. When you say our headquarters – do you mean the Traditions? Or... I dunno, are you with them? Or are you Orphan too? Do they.. we..? count as a Tradition? The way Kalen talks sometimes, it sounds like some of the cool kids tend to look down on the ones who haven’t picked a team yet.”

Alyssa Solomon

She pulls out another Corona for Alexander and lets the fridge shut behind her, walking over. She uses a ring around the middle finger on her right hand to pop the caps off, handing his over.

"I wish I could tell you for sure about what happened in your Awakening, but I don't know. It could have been a spirit trying that, or maybe your Avatar. It could have been a test, or some spirit taking advantage. If you'd managed to cross though, you probably would have been trapped until you found someone who could get you back to our side." A little smile. "That's tricky magic.

"I know Leonhard, yeah." There's a frown there...not disapproving, more curious. "There are rumors that it was Technocracy-done, but I don't think anyone knows for sure. That's a lot of speculation because it sure as shit helped the Union, who weren't as strong across the Gauntlet, as it did us. It's hard to say. And as to Traditions..." She laughs there. It's not bitter, like some Hollowers might in regard to the question. It's honestly amused.

"That's a complex question. Many of us Hollow Ones consider ourselves a Tradition, but the fact of the matter is that the other Traditions never let us into their little club. Didn't stop those Hollowers at the time from trying. And yeah, there are those in the Traditions who look down on Orphans. Including Hollow Ones, because we are basically a Tradition of Orphans. They think we're dangerous because we don't fit into their neat little boxes. Usually my response is a polite 'fuck off.'"

She sits down, takes a drink off her beer. "But I've also seen it from the other side, because I was brought up to be a Hermetic. So I have kind of the worst of both worlds, really."

Alexander Brandt

Alexander wedges his empty coffee cup back in the try and accepts the beer, taking a sip from the bottle.

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my Avatar. Saying that, I’m still not quite sure which part of that god-awful day was my Avatar making an appearance. Assuming it even did. I think you’re probably right about it being a spirit trying to take advantage, although I don’t really have any real way of knowing one way or the other. And yeah, getting stuck there...” His eyes go unfocussed, looking at the patterns on the far wall. “That would definitely suck.” A few seconds pause before he asks, “Is there any way of finding a particular spirit?”

He turns his head to look at Alyssa again when she talks about Traditions. Laughs at the ‘usual response’ she gives to the more closed-off members of the cool club. “So what is a Hollow One? I get that the Traditions all have their own ideas on what it is that makes the world go round, but how do you guys see the world?”

He gestures at the walls with the beer bottle. “Is that where these patterns came from? The Hermetic teaching? What made you leave them? Would you ever go back? To any of the Traditions?”

Alyssa Solomon

"Those are two involved questions." She says it with...not so much a smile this time. There's amusement, but it's a little uncharacteristically restrained. "Or several, I guess. Would I ever go back to the Order or switch to the others? No. Not a chance in hell. I am perfectly comfortable with most Hermetics. I have more in common with them than a lot of others. I don't like large parts of the Order itself though. They're arrogant and exclusionary and hoard their power like dragons in a Tolkein story. But that doesn't make them evil. Just a group I have issues with. And for the others...I don't need to. I'm part of a Tradition, whether they consider us one or not."

She sighs. "The reason that they don't like Hollowers and don't consider us a tradition is because we're very loosely organized. Even Virtual Adepts, new as they are in terms of not being Technocrats, tend to not be Orphan-heavy, or at least codified in terms of how they do their thing. Hollow Ones are more social in nature. We're ecletic and our magics aren't all the same. It's more about our oh-so-happy mindset, which is basically that the world is fucked. That makes some of us nihilists, some of us rebels, some of us very traditional in style. But all of us tend to get looked at in very askance ways. The reason I left..."

She falls silent there, shakes her head. "It's a long story, but the important part is that I found myself vulnerable at one point right after I Awakened and someone in power basically fucked me over seven ways to Sunday, in front of everyone at the Chantry. And while he was censured, he got away with it. It was a bit of an eye-opener for me." She's not still wounded over it; it's fairly blase in how she recounts it. A wound long since scabbed over.

"And yeah," she says with a nod, looking at the patterns. "That's from my Hermetic teachings. After I left I picked up a lot of other methods from other people, but most of my grounding is in Hermetic magical practice."

Alexander Brandt

He put the bottle on the table next to the coffee tray and sits back on the couch, quiet again for a bit. “I don’t think I get how anyone joins the Traditions without Awakening into them. If they all have their set ways of doing working, how would someone who’s been figuring it out for themselves ever fit in? I don’t want to be told that I’m doing it all wrong when what I’m doing works for me.” He sighs. “I get that this isn’t about picking a side in what’s left of the war now. The Union will try to steamroller anyone who’s Awake and not part of them. And I know that there’s a lot I still don’t know about most of the Traditions, so maybe it’s a bit early to say this, but I’m really not sure that I see myself fitting in with any of them. Not the ones I’ve seen anyway. I don’t think I’m... academic enough for the Hermetics. I’m not interested enough in tech for the VA’s. Not religious enough for the Choristers. Not stoned enough for the Cultists. I have no fucking idea what’s going on with the Etherites. There aren’t many of Them left.” He almost sounds resigned to staying as an Orphan. Alexander snorts, half amused. “Is eyeshadow part of the Hollow uniform then? I’d need makeup lessons.”

Her brief explanation of her history with the Order certainly doesn’t do anything to recommend it, but does give some insight into how un-Hermetic Kalen can be. Leonhard seems to fit the mould reasonably well. Was there another one..?

He nods at the symbols on the wall. “So are they like writing then? Magic words? Or is it the pattern itself that means something?”

Alyssa Solomon

The woman's expression softens a little bit when Alexander expresses his frustration over the Traditions. She gets it, because there was a time when she was lost and didn't know where she belonged to. She had to find her own path and luckily someone was there to do so for her. She leans over and puts a hand on his shoulder then, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Listen, Alex. First of all, if anyone tells you that you have to be in a Tradition, then you find the most phallic thing in the vicinity, point it out and tell them to sit and spin. You don't have to be part of any Tradition just in order to be in one. Find a place that's right for you, and if there isn't one then there's nothing wrong with not being in one at all. If they look down on you then fuck 'em. They don't run your life, okay?"

She smiles a little then, a quirked grin that lets the conviction and seriousness fade a bit. "As to the Traditions themselves...well, they come in all shapes and sizes. I've known some Cultists, for example--not many, but some--who are totally drug-free. They're adrenaline junkies instead, or maybe anarchists or anything that just doesn't fit in normal, boring society. And that's just one Tradition's example. Don't look at the people or their tools to do magic, necessarily. Listen to the philosophies, and find something that fits. If there's nothing, than make up your own.

"As to my makeup..." She leans back then and smiles, shrugs. "We're largely goths, yeah. But again, doesn't mean you have to be. The philosophy is what matters. And the seals are Enochian. It's a magical language, big among the Hermetics. I also use Santeria stuff, a touch of Voudoun, a bit of Zoroastrianism...a little bit of everything from here and there. Only thing that's a complete constant is my blood, and that's specific to me. It's...a thing." She leaves it off there for now.

Alexander Brandt

“Oh, I get that I don’t have to join any of them. And I wouldn’t want to join any just for the sake of bring in one. It’s just...” He sighs again. “You go through life without much of a direction, when everyone else seems to clear on what they want or where they want to head. Then this,” he makes the wiggly-finger gesture again,” happens, a whole new world opens up. I’d say that this could be where I was meant to be heading, if I believed in Fate. But now I’m here, it’s the same all over again. Not really sure where I fit in. ” He smiles, though, looking back at Alyssa. “But fuck ‘em, right? I’ll just chip out my own little corner of the world and go from there. That might not be so bad.” Right? “But there’s still a few of the Traditions to look at, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look at the Cultists again if a doctorate in DIY pharmacology isn’t a requirement.”

He looks at the seal again. “So how does that work? The language, I mean. I’m guessing there’s more to it than writing ‘I’m not really here’ in a difference language.” The blood thing? He is curious why that’s a thing, but it doesn’t seem that Alyssa really wants to go into any great detail at the moment. Maybe paradigms are more personal that he initially though, and that not everybody really likes to talk about them. Maybe with a bit more time spent together, he’ll find out more.

He turns his head to look at Alyssa again. “What do you want to do about your missing person? I’m going to guess that you want to look around down there some time. Want some company?”

Alyssa Solomon

"The language is just the form," she says in answer. "It defines and directs my Will. Language is power, put just scrawling the words...repeating the physical shape of it doesn't do anything other than make Hermetics look at you askance."

She grins there. She's received the suspicion of many a Hermetic for her use of their language. Entitled bastards. "But when you do it with intent, and put your Will to it...well, it's the language of the angels. The first tongue taught to humans by God, before Babel and all that shit. So there is more power in it than, say, text speak."

Alexander offers to help out with the missing person and she nods. "That might be good. I have a lead to follow up on first...a couple guys I need to get in touch with that knew my missing girl. Good news is, I'm pretty sure that her mother expects that she's dead and just wants answers. So I'm not going to disappoint her much when I find out that's the case, you know? But once I'm done with that than I'm totally down with enlisting you for a little romantic hike up through the woods to a magically toxified lake. I have the best date ideas ever."

That's when her phone rings, and she frowns as she pulls it out and takes a look. "Shit. Um...I hate to cut this short, but one of my other jobs just caught a break. Nothing special, just tracking down a philandering husband, but I gotta go." And they'll part ways there, and Alyssa will promise to call Alex when she gets a chance. Soon the apartment is locked up and Alyssa is driving off down the street, ready to catch some asshole and ruin his marriage.