How do you even exist?

Grace

Grace is working on a thing. She's sprawled out on a couch in the living room, messing with 3d shapes in AutoCAD. And in her lack-of-artistic talent, the thing she's working on looks a bit like a mutated turtle.

It's supposed to be a Gamera-bot, so perhaps she's not all that off of her target, eh? There's so many parts to being Gamera. It's got to be able to spin around fast, shoot fire out of its mouth, the limbs have to be retractable -- all of those functional elements take precedence over looks, mind you. Which is why the shell is perfectly circular and its legs fairly spider-like. The essence of Gamera is what it can do, though.

On the table next to her is a whole carafe of French-press coffee, because Kalen has so thoroughly rubbed off on her.

And how much are we distracted by robots today, Grace? Can you feel the others around? The wisps of their Workings, and the presence of newcomers?

[Awareness!]

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

Alexander

[Getting Awareness out of the way...]

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

Alexander

[And, while we're here... Arete - spirit sight. TN4, threshold 1 for the node. -1 diff for the node.]

Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (5) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Alexander

With the seasons shifting and becoming warmer once again, those people of a type to be outdoors are finding their way back out into the forests and mountains surrounding the city. When Grace arrived, she may have noticed a possibly-familiar motorbike parked on the driveway. The more familiar sensation of a sliver of frigid time, however, wasn’t present. Now, though? It’s starting to make its presence felt as Alex walks across the fields to the back of the house and gets closer.

He knows that Grace is inside – her resonance is picked up on well before her physical presence. Alexander doesn’t head straight in, though. He stops by the Node first, looking at the water as he leans his will up against reality and pushes just a little. Enough for a few minutes. Just long enough to find Callisto resting nearby, not even noticing his presence. As things usually are. He still smiles warmly at her, though. Maybe one day he’ll be able to talk to her.

The vision fades, just as swiftly as it arrived, and Alexander heads into the house. He leaves a small rucksack near the door as he enters, dressed pretty much as you’d expect. Jacket, combats, walking boots. The jacket comes off and gets laid over the back of one of the comfy chairs close to Grace’s couch, followed by Alex sitting down and leaning back comfortably.

“Hey Grace. How’re things?”

Grace

"Woah!" Grace jumps a little, looking up from her laptop with wide eyes. She'd been only peripherally aware of Alex, enough that his frozenness could be ignored, lost as she was in trying to figure out a place for the mini flamethrower to go.

"Oh! Hi! Alex, it's you. Not some..." she makes wiggly movements in the air with her fingers. "Thing."

"I'm good, totally good."

Alexander

Alex smirks as Grace jumps, amused at how immersed she’d been in her work to barely even notice his arrival. “What kind of,” he makes the same wiggle movement with his fingers, “thing were you expecting? Because if it’s the end of the world kind, it’s probably time I went to visit my mother.” He smiles, not really expecting anything apocalyptic. Not unless it’s something very new that hasn’t made it onto Ginger yet.

He reaches over and checks the temperature of the French press. Given how pre-occupied Grace had been it was quite possible that she’d forgotten that it was there. Ah, yep – lukewarm and the plunger was still up. Alex grabs the handle and stands, intending to head into the kitchen to make a new pot.

Before he goes, he asks, “what’re you working on?” He waits a moment for an answer before heading towards the kitchen.

Grace

"I expect no things, and prepare for all of them. Usually. Today, however, I might have been expecting Godzilla."

She stretches. Good grief, how long has her body been attempting to hold that same position, one leg off the couch, one leg on it with the shoe off, her shoulders scrunched up and her neck bent down?

Ow.

"I'm working on Gamera-bot. A friend of mine is maybe going to make Godzilla so we can have Kaiju battles."

There, now, is a crazed grin on Grace's face -- this is where we get the term 'mad science' from.

Alexander

“I could be wrong, but I think we’re probably a bit far from the coast for Godzilla to pay a visit. Unless he has a relative living on one of the lakes? I’m pretty sure you’d hear the roof being torn off the place first, though.” He pauses for a second, wondering if anybody had thought to check the lakes. But surely it would have been noticed by now.

Like the nature spirit? Yeah. Great.

Grace gives her strange grin and Alex backs away warily toward the kitchen, raising the cold coffee in explanation. He’s gone for a few minutes, in which the opening and closing of various cupboard doors and the boiling of a kettle can be heard. He reappears with fresh coffee and a second cup with milk in.

“What’s a Gamera and a Kaiju?” He sets the coffee and cup down on the table, by Grace’s original cup. “These things aren’t going to be trying to take over the world, are they?”

It has been an awfully long time since he visited his mother.

Grace

"Gamera is only the friend to all children! He's a giant turtle and he shoots fire and spins around and just when you think he's dead, he was really just in a coma healing up. He's awesome. And I realize I'm fangirling all over a monster movie giant turtle, I don't even care."

Ooh. Alex brings coffee. Well, well. Cops can be good for something after all. She gives him a less crazed grin and accepts the fresh cup, to pour her own.

"My Gamera-bot isn't going to be taking over the world. I'll teach it well. Also, it'll be about the size of a regular turtle, because I don't have a billion dollars..."

Alexander

“Did Godzilla ever try flipping him onto his back?” Alex leans over and sort his own coffee out. “Or would that be cheating?

“Isn’t money just numbers these days? Can’t you just give yourself more numbers than before? Or is it not quite that simple?” The hacking? The magic? Either. Both. He takes a sip of his coffee while it’s still just a little too hot to drink comfortably.

Grace

Grace slides her laptop on the table and turns the display off. It's just not very sociable to keep it running while trying to have a conversation, is it? Is that one of the rules she's so used to breaking? Eh. If you care about rules enough to always ignore them, you care about them too much.

"Money is not just numbers, and that's the part that's tricky. Money is where people think it is. That's why you can have such things as devaluation of currency and hyperinflation and all that shit. If it were just numbers, you could just add more numbers and fix everything. But value? Value of stuff, of names, of a country's might, of a corporation's ability to do whatever the fuck they need to do next quarter -- that's what money's supposed to be counting. And thus, if I were to just hack into my bank and add a few zeroes, people would stop to question where that value supposedly came from.

"They get awfully bent out of shape whenever you mess with money directly, because then how could you label someone's importance if it is just a number that can be edited at will? It throws people's entire value systems into turmoil and messes with their heads, makes them think they won't survive. I'd get chucked into the darkest, deepest hole they could find real quick."

Alexander

Alex settles back again in the chair, crossing one leg. He’d consider crossing his legs and resting his feet on the chair, but boots. His hands are wrapped around the cup, feeling the warmth from it.

“And the consensus strikes again? I guess shifting money from other accounts isn’t exactly a victimless crime though. Not if you end up with someone’s college fund or mortgage payments. That would be bad. I guess I didn’t realise just how… touchy the powers that be got about numbers, or what they really got used for. I guess that means you can’t just magic a couple of bars of gold into your car boot either.

“That, and probably killing the shocks.”

Grace

"Mmm," Grace says, sips on the coffee. "Not even just the consensus. I could do that without the capital-M Magic. Just plain old-fashioned human fear. Someday though, someday..."

She takes another sip.

"I mean, we might eventually figure out that people and things have intrinsic worth and it's uncountable, so why fucking label it, right? I know I can't wait."

Alexander

“I mean the consensus kicking in with the meaning of money. No capital M involved. Everyone gives the numbers meaning and… well, you know the rest. Only it isn’t reality bitch-slapping you if it goes wrong.”

He takes another sip of his coffee at the same time as Grace takes hers. “Can’t say I ever really thought that people were important because of their bank balance. I thought they were important because they’re people. I get that it’s not the most popular of views, though. I mean, what’s one of the first questions people usually ask? ‘And what do you do?’ Like that’s any more a definition of a person or what they’re worth.”

Grace

"How do you even exist? I mean, as a police officer, with that attitude? You must have so many crosshairs lined up between your eyes right now," Grace says, shakes her head, sips her coffee. "I mean, you saw how they covered up after the vampires, right? Haven't you ever felt like maybe your need to be ethical was going to get you in trouble?"

"Do note that I am not complaining, just you're right. It isn't a very popular point of view."

Alexander

“’To Protect and Serve’, right? Ok, that’s LA, but it still fits. It doesn’t say to protect those with a 401-K and serve those with a Black Amex card. I get just as bothered about some homeless guy getting beaten up as I do some random person getting mugged on the way home. If anything, I probably care more about the homeless guy, because nobody else is going to give a damn about him.”

Alex takes a longer drink from the cup, now that it’s cooled a little. “I’m not stupid. I’ve gone up against spirits and Adepts and who knows what other mundane crap because there aren’t enough other people who can do it, or will do it. It’s always someone else’s problem.”

Grace

Grace raises a brow. Well, well. Cops can be good for something after all, indeed.

She drinks more of her coffee.

"Yeah, and that's why I like you. Not that that really matters in the grand scheme of things. I know that's been your very heart's desire all your life to be on the friend list of a hacker, but there you go. You can die happy now, I'm sure."

"Thanks for the coffee. I didn't say that earlier, did I?"

Alexander

“Well I would say that I know who to talk to about getting rid of any speeding tickets, but I can do that myself. I get that I’m not exactly your typical cop, but show me a typical cop who looks for spirits, has seen the river that runs through the afterlife, or gotten half-shredded in a firefight with a psychotic, cannibalistic Mage. One who doesn’t wear a black suit and have a wide selection of mirrored sunglasses to choose from, anyway.”

He smiles, shrugging. “I somehow doubt you’re exactly your stereotypical hacker either. Not if you’re spending quality time with the authorities like this. ”

“I rather expect to die in a bloody mess somewhere. Hopefully happy, but I’d settle for meaningfully.”

“And you’re welcome. How’s Gamera coming along?”

Grace

"Oh, don't remind me. I lose so much cred if it gets around that I drink coffee with a cop," she says, but it's with a full-on smirk. "You sound so much like Kalen when you talk about dying... Personally, I rather expect to keep living."

Oh, coffee, why do you run out? Good thing there is more. And more she gets, stretching over to the carafe.

"Gamera is an idea just yet. I'm planning out where all the things are going to go. And I want to get him to the point where he can retract legs and spin around, because how awesome would that be? But yeah. It'll get there!"

Alexander

Alex laughs, as Grace says that he sounds like Kalen. “There are worse people to be compared to. I dunno, call it an occupational hazard of hanging around him too much. Or getting caught up in his fight against the bad stuff. I’d really rather like to live long enough to draw a pension. I’m just not that good, and luck runs out eventually.” He shrugs, still smiling. Being killed in the line of duty? Yeah, it’s been thought about more than once and the idea is something that he’s comfortable with.

“Can you get miniature jet engines? That would cover the fire and probably have enough push to get him spinning. Or he might go shooting into the wall and explode.” He shrugs again, laughing this time. “Then we keep him in the armoury for a rainy day.”

Grace

Maybe someday, Grace will look back on this conversation and give it a bit more weight, but for today? Death seems so far away.

"I was thinking regular motors to avoid the shooting explosions bit? But the movie Gamera does fly around using jets that come out of his legs, so... hmmm."

"I don't know. Maybe if I cheated a little..."

Alexander

That probably is a train of conversation more suited to dark nights with copious quantities of alcohol, and there are other thing to be talking over. Like how to fit jets into a robot.

“Well, I won’t tell if you won’t.” He gives Grace an exaggerated conspiratorial wink across the top of his coffee cup. “Is there anything in the rulebook saying that you can’t feed little Gamera a little magic to keep him flying? Who’s your opponent going to be, anyway?”

And the conversation moves back onto movie monsters, their special powers, and how best to squeeze them into a turtle-sized robot.