[How awake are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (2, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )
Kalen Holliday[How distracted by Resonance are we?]
Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 6 )
Alexander Brandt[Oh, yeah, that Awareness thing]
Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )
Kalen HollidayKalen is waiting in a little place that might have been nice once, back when the booth he is sprawled over was a less hideous faded shade of orange and not cracking. There is a gouge in the table near his half empty coffee mug, not the kind of expensive, hand-roasted, fresh ground coffee with steamed milk and flavorings one might expect but the pedestrian kind that lingers in a giant pot on a warmer and is dutifully refilled by tired-eyed waitstaff.
This is generally not the place most of Denver would expect to find Kalen, or where anyone would expect to find a young man in fitted jeans and a clingy and slightly shimmery blue tee-shirt and heavy black boots making notes in tiny squared off handwriting on a map of Denver. With an antique mechanical pencil. And a sextant.
But Kalen Holliday is ignoring the looks that the outfit and the sextant and the cobalt eye-liner are drawing: some curious, some dark, a few interested. There is so much of the universe he wants to explore and touch and taste and drown in but for now he is making notes and consulting his laptop and drinking coffee and he has tried three kinds of pie already and soon he will try another one. There is a whole case of pies waiting to be tried. Right there. He can see them from the corner of his eye and it is amazing.
There is a web of cracks in the floor and he thinks he can see how fate spills out from the center of it. There are people in here and outside and they are spilling and cresting and breaking in waves and if he looked he could see different times echo forward and back. Could see them the way some people use the lines on a person's palm to read the fate of this place.
Today is glorious and radiant with possibility the way summer is the glorious scent of peaches and the long heady blaze of sunlight. This...well...Alexander hasn't seen this before. He's seen content and he's seen half-broken and he's seen barely contained, but lost in the world and its infinite possibility and promise...not yet. Not until now.
Alexander BrandtSomewhere along East Colfax, in the bright summer sunlight, a storm hangs over a stretch of shops. The sky is clear, but some of the Sleepers nearby can’t help but wonder if the weather will be taking one of its schizophrenic changes for the worst that the city’s location can bring about. And it’s this feeling that draws Alexander towards the waiting Kalen, more than the street numbers or the faded signs displaying the shop names. And so Frozen comes to meet Storm.
Outside the establishment, there’s the sounds of a motorbike engine dying away. There’s a bit of a pause between that and Alexander appearing at the door, looking around to find the eye of the storm. So he’s here in a vest top, cargo shorts and, getting slightly strange looks of his own, bike boots. There’s a fairly chunky rucksack hanging from one shoulder, and it appears to be well filled.
He stops by the counter to pick up a cup of coffee of his own, nodding towards Kalen when the waitress asks if it’s to take out. The rucksack lands heavily at the end of the vacant booth seat as Alex shrugs it off and tosses it over. The cup is settled on the cracked and chipped table before he slides onto the seat.
He greets Kalen with a smile, adding, “You bring me to the nicest places.” He looks down at the map, cocking his head round to try to make sense of it.
Kalen HollidayKalen is not startled for all he isn't watching Alexander come to join him, because he was so aware of Alexander coming, so aware of everything. It was gorgeous and painful and overwhelming and incredible and.... He breathes in and tastes snow. Lifts his head. Winces and then stretches. Settles back into a lazy sprawl.
"I'm looking for people who remind me of me when I was younger. I thought I'd try to do it in a place that reminded me of me when I was younger." He smiles. "They have fourteen kinds of pie. It is ridiculous and amazing. One of them is blueberry."
He traces the outline of one circle. "Cherry Hill, where that robbery happened last night. Our kind of thing." He traces another circle. And another. "Other thefts that could be related, but I don't even know yet. I'm just...thinking."
"Key lime or coconut cream?" Kalen asks, and then his eyes light up. "I-can-bring-one-to-Sera-to-go-with-tequila-because-limes!" He grins. "But right now. Question stands."
Alexander BrandtAlex’s coffee is stirred as Kalen explains the location. A little cream is poured in, swirling through the dark liquid. “Is there someone in particular that you’re trying to be reminded of? Or just generally reminiscing?” The spoon is laid on the table by the cup as the coffee and cream finish mixing. He takes a sip, tasting the slightly burned taste of the coffee. A little sugar follows the cream.
Eyebrows rise a little at the mention of the robbery, moreso that there were other Awakened taking part. He’d heard of the trouble there – it had been on the news that morning and there had been mention of it at that morning’s station briefing. Keep an eye out for groups in white masks hanging around high-traffic areas with high-value stores. No signs that there would be a repeat, but no signs that there wouldn’t either...
“I’d ask how you know that it’s our kind of thing, but I’m guessing you were there? Did anyone get hurt?” There’s no accusation in Alex’s tone, just acceptance that these things just seem to happen when they’re around. “You’re wondering if this is something we should look into.” It’s a statement rather than a question. But after their talk about the cabal, it seems like a logical conclusion. “I’ll keep an ear out for similar robberies.”
Alex grins again at the question of pie and asks, “Haven’t you heard of ‘and’?”
Kalen HollidayKalen laughs. "I have already tried the strawberry rhubarb and blueberry and the peanut butter and chocolate. I was just figuring out what to try next."
"And yeah, Alyssa and I were there. I don't think anyone was hurt, really. A few people got tackled by concerned citizens, but I think everyone came out okay. They seemed less interested in hurting people and more just wild. I used to be like that. I got tamed, a little. Given a purpose.
"Everything could have been so different, Alce." His eyes are wide, but his pupils are showing no signs this mood is chemically induced. "There are probably worlds where I did."
"I want to find them. But not because I want to stop them. I just want to give them the options that were given to me if they haven't had them."
Alexander BrandtAlex shrugs, still smiling. “Go for both, they sound like they’d work well together.”
The smile fades as Kalen talks more about what happened at the mall, and about himself. He takes another sip of the coffee, a little more palatable with the sweetener added. The cup comes down, held between both hands on the table. “There were a lot of scared people there and it could have turned very nasty. It was lucky that nobody thought to bring a weapon to the party or we’d have a couple of dozen people in hospital. It sounds like the whole thing was more for kicks than anything else. I’m not so sure it’s as easy as having a bit of a chat and seeing them reform themselves.”
Alex shrugs with one shoulder before waving at a waitress to get her attention and order more pie. “Different? You mean last night? Now? The past? Future?”
Kalen Holliday"Alce," Kalen says gently. "You have no idea how much I did not care about anything but me. For a very long time.
"It was much harder than having a chat and me suddenly bounding into being a better person. It took years. I was lucky enough or blessed enough to have had people willing to give me those years.
"I don't think we're going to have like a video montage and then an unlikely romance and then daffodils and roll credits." He takes a sip of coffee. "But I take the broad interpretations of what I do sometimes. And there are a lot of ways to build a better world. Sometimes the hardest ways are the ones with the greatest reward.
"Would you rather just stop them? Lock them up somewhere and leave them? Or would you rather they come to see the world that we see. The one worth remembering themselves to save?"
He sighs. "Everything. Everything could be so different. It is, somewhere. I'm sure of that. But we have only here and now. It's like painting on a half covered canvas sometimes."
Alexander Brandt“There’s not caring about anyone else and trying to take care of yourself. And then there’s going out, causing trouble and not thinking about the consequences.” Alex sighs. “Stop them, yes. What they do is just too risky and it wasn’t exactly a victimless crime. How about the people scared to go to the mall now in case it happens again? Are the people working the stores going to be looking over their shoulders in case it happens again?
“But lock them up? I don’t know. Depends why they did it, I guess. And I suppose the only way to work that one out is to talk to them.” He shrugs again, a smile pulling at one side of his mouth. “Unless you think Sera could do her thing..?
“But I don’t really know enough to say one way or the other what I think should happen to them.”
Alex leans back against the seat, watching Kalen. “At the end of the day, we can only do what seems right, here and now. Why worry about what could be going on in the theres and thens?”
Kalen Holliday"If you can see the threads that connect you to the whole kaleidoscope of possible futures you can trace them through events that might otherwise seem inconsequential. You coax them and nudge them and shape them, the way you trim a bonsai. Slowly. Carefully.
"But in the end you have something incredible. Intricate. Finely balanced. Extraordinary.
"It's...much harder to do blind. It can be done. But it is so much harder. So much more dangerous without knowledge." Kalen leans across the map to regard Alexander, and his eyes are still practically glowing. "Sometimes I think it is like looking at the sun. That it will burn and blind. Sometimes it is exhausting, To see everything without forcing it into patterns and shapes. To let sensations and perceptions press against your skin until there are moments you think only the weight of them can be what's holding you up.
"But the world, Alce...." He glances, just barely, away from Alexander as two plates of pie are set on their table. "How can you not look?"
Alexander BrandtAlex glances up as the waitress arrives to drop off the plates before quietly departing again. “I look, but I can’t see. Not in the same way you can. I can see this city and the people trying to make the best of this reality that we live in. I see the strong prey on the weak. The scared. The lonely. The dangerous. I wish I could see more of the wonder that you and Alyssa and Eleanor talk about, but it’s so hard. People hide it, but there’s so much fear. The news playing endless stories about death and violence. People working themselves into the ground trying to make ends meet.”
He looks down at the plates, not really seeing them. “How do you do it?”
Kalen HollidayAlexander wants to know.
And Kalen almost tries to explain to him about the names of constellations but they are in a restaurant on Colfa and that conversation leads to conversations they can't have here. And it is Alexander, who seems quietly determined to have magic with Faith. That isn't the answer he wants.
It might have been impossible a few moments before, but Alexander has been here long enough now that Kalen has had at least one steady thing in his perceptions. And so:
"See it?" Kalen asks, quiet and, at least for the moment, suddenly in focus. "Or live with what I see?"
Alexander BrandtAlex picks up a fork and picks off a piece of one of the pies. Which one he doesn’t really notice; the action is more out of distraction, and he doesn’t really taste it when he takes the bite.
If asked, Alexander would be the last to say that he had faith. He had always been – still is – a man who needed to see, hear, feel something to know that it was true. Faith is too close to religion, and religion is a crock. There there’s someone, something, responsible for all of creation? That they pass on instructions in burning bushes, stone slabs, even pieces of toast. It’s all laughable. Someone else’s imaginary friend.
But maybe faith would be something he could use. Would there be comfort in knowing that this was all part of a big plan? That there would be some big reward at the end if he did well enough? Unlikely. The idea of fate – of being actors on rails with the script already written – goes against his ideas of free will. Of choice. The journey wouldn’t matter.
But it does matter, and it’s why Alex wants to make things that little bit better in the here and now. It’s just so hard to see the hope sometimes.
The fork goes back down on the table and Alex swallows, looking back up at Kalen. “Both.”
Kalen HollidayKalen, who has not cared what the world as a whole thinks of him for at least a decade reaches across the table to squeeze Alexander's hand with a laugh. It is not, even if Alexander allows that here, sustained contact. Sometimes Kalen wants all the contact ever. Sometimes it's a conversational gesture.
"Well. Sometimes I go back to before allllllllll the more formal training. My first-" His eyes glitter and his smile widens and something warm and rich threads through his tone. "Shall we call her philosophy teacher had a very organic, grounded in sensation kind of approach to philosophy.
"She's where I learned to touch people, actually. She touches people all the time. It's easier for her. Temperamentally. And because she's a fucking gorgeous dancer that pretty much everyone wants to have touching them. She's...incredible. Similar generally in school of thought to Sera. Broadly speaking.
"I had been, when we met, really divorced from perceptions in my thought process. I mean, I had to be. Sometimes you can't give yourself to feeling hungry or cold or exhausted or in pain and keep moving. And I had to be able to do that.
"And it took awhile for her to convince me to try meditation, so instead she would bake. And she'd ask me about whether a thing needed more cinnamon or which icing brought out the taste of lemon. And then she did the tea thing. Maybe we can do the tea thing. I can't bake to save my life. Or like the world. It's horrible. But I could do the tea thing.
"You want to put the pie in boxes and do the tea thing?"
Alexander BrandtThere’s a moment of indecision, while Alex decides whether to pull his hand away from Kalen’s. But then the contact is over. For someone who seems willing to touch others for comfort, there are times where it’s the last thing he wants himself.
He’s a little uncertain whether Kalen is talking more about how he learned to see the extra depth in life, or if it’s more to do with learning to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. But there is something of a smile when he replies. “Depends. Does the tea thing involve, ghosts, demons, being dragged through worlds, being shot, hit, hugged by spiky plant people, or anything else needing medical attention or a large bottle of vodka to get to sleep at night?”
Kalen Holliday"Ah...it shouldn't." Kalen is still smiling as he flags down a waitress for boxes. "But just in case I will not make the new tea that I found whose label I cannot read. You never know."
He folds the map and closes the laptop and packs them up. "Have you ever brewed tea in a yixing tea pot?"
Alexander BrandtThe smile grows a little more at Kalen’s joke, and Alex fishes around in a pocket looking for some cash to put towards the bill. “Unless yixing is a swear work in another language, I’ve never even heard of one.
Ten bucks left on the table, he shuffles towards the edge and drags his rucksack towards him along the seat. “Where is this yixing tea to be made?”
Kalen Holliday"You can come see the library. There's a girl we probably shouldn't talk about living in my house right now." Kalen says this as though it is not the kind of statement that prompts immediate questions. Slips the strap of his laptop bag over one shoulder and picks up the pie in boxes.
He smiles at Alexander. "And no. It is a place in China with clay that has particular properties." His eyes flash. "Don't worry. I may know all kinds of things people don't know, but only because I don't know all the things they are expected to know. I'm under no illusions about knowing everything."
And then he writes the address for the library on a napkin and offers it to Alexander. "You can follow me there. Or even hop in my car. But...just in case."
Alexander BrandtAlex’s eyebrows rise when Kalen casually mentions a woman living in his house. He tries to think of any recent disasters, strange occurrences or newcomers. But he’s been a little too out of touch to really know what might have been going on. That and still not having figured out the whole Ginger thing. “That sounds like a whole other story. Who..? She’s not Egyptian, is she?”
He takes the offered napkin, squinting a little at the address. It looks familiar. “This is your office, isn’t it? I don’t know about following, but I can meet you there.” There’s a little more of a grin now. It’s probably for the best that Kalen has his own means of getting there...
Alexander Brandt[Exeunt stage left, to the library!]
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