And please don't shoot my friend

Grace

The Office is not an imposing structure, nor is the Warehouse that sits beside it. The Warehouse sports old, flaking paint on the outside that vaguely resembles the shape of a cow. Maybe this was an old dairy at some point in its lifespan? Call it camouflage. No defunct dairy would be protected with steel doors and biometric locks.

The invitation has been sent, multiple times. Samir, come to the Office. Samir, I have presents for you. At first glance, the place might be... dare we say it... disappointing?

Alexander

[Awareness?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 3 )

Samir

Sam has the uncanny ability to ignore his phone and his email inbox if the phone or email inbox require a response that would have him leaving the apartment to do anything other than collect money from someone to whom he was delivering illicit substances.

To be fair he has only been known to a few of the city's Awakened population for about a week now but in that week he has ignored shit knows how many invitations. It finally reached the point where he had to respond.

He didn't respond though. He just showed up. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Except for in order to rip off the Band-Aid he had to check the windows and the faucets and the stove x number of times and the less said about what he has to do to even walk through the door the better.

So he just showed up and now he has to find the entrance to this dungeon. He's already regretting this decision. And when Alexander shows up the first thing he feels is something piercing. Something piercing and Mind magic.

Grace

[Awareness Too!]

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

Samir

[ah fuck it. awareness.]

Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 5, 7, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Alexander

Alexander isn’t a stranger to the Office or the Warehouse. He may not frequent the library as much as others, but he makes up for that with the time he spends in the firing range. Yes, there’s a firing range. And that’s not even the most impressive part about the complex.

He’s only just arriving, though, after some hesitation at the gates. He spends time reaching out for the awareness of who else might be around. There’s one that he’s looking for and another that he’s looking to avoid for the moment. Someone who has changed way too much in a very short period. There is someone else noted, though. Someone new. Always someone new.

The coast is clear, though, and Grace is in! So the sound of a motorbike idling a short distance away is replaced with the roar of an engine as he finishes his approach. A blue sports bike parks up close to the entrance to the office, and a helmeted figure in biker leathers gets off.

Samir

At the sound of the motorbike the newcomer stops what he's doing and turns to look.

Said newcomer stands of average height for a western male and is darkly complected. His hair is black and long enough that he can tie it into a knot at the nape of his neck and he has no other distinguishing features. He's handsome, maybe, but he also fades from memory so quickly that even the government doesn't have much in the way of memory of him.

In this moment though he feels like a needle in the second it stabs into a vein. That kind of sharpness. Like the gaze of an overly perceptive stranger.

And he looks like he wants to bolt when he hears the engine. The best way to describe his fashion sense is "punk-bohemian." A leather jacket overtop otherwise nondescript clothing. His hands are in his pockets. He has found the front door but he is holding off on announcing his presence until he sorts out who the fellow on the bike is.

Grace

Somebody's not expecting visitors. Here's the thing about Mages, right? They do as they like. And that includes showing up without warning. It's not much of a shock that neither Alex or Sam bothered to let anybody know they were dropping by, it just means Grace is woefully unprepared for the prospect of people.

Right at the moment, she only vaguely notices the presence of something cold, and this being almost Summer, that's enough to prick the ears and go 'huh?' at. The motorcycle arriving and stopping makes it more obvious who that is.

Fucking Hell, she thinks, looking down at her hands, covered in long yellow gloves. Somebody has to clean things, and in the spirit of mutual cooperation and shit, they have a rotation going on in the place. It's just fantastic to get visitors while you're scrubbing a toilet, no?

On the other hand, this is a good excuse to quit.

She gets up, stows away the brush, doffs the gloves in the sink. The bathroom is a mess of cleaning products, so hopefully nobody needs to take a piss.

Alex can just deal.

With that done, she goes to open the door. He probably doesn't need it -- hadn't Kalen made sure the door recognizes him? But just in case...

Alexander

Alexander has no illusions that he’s as close to the comings and goings of the Awakened in the city. Maybe it’s his efforts to retain his ‘normal’ life that pull him a touch further away from the usual storms of chance that pull them together and throw them apart again. There are some in the city that he just hasn’t really crossed paths with much. Maybe that will change. Maybe it won’t.

Either way, there’s a new face – and a new resonance to go with it – lurking outside one of their meeting places. It’s not obvious whether he’s here by invitation or chance or for some malicious intent. His helmeted head cocks to the side, the only display of puzzlement through the darkened visor, and a muffled voice says, “Hi.”

Alex, by the way, is not a small man. Tall, broad, dressed in biker gear and with his head masked, he may well come across as an imposing figure. And those who pay attention to such things might note the aura of cold around him. Something timeless, Frozen in the heart of the comet.

Samir

"Uh..."

This fellow in the bike helmet is if not One of Them then at least capable of tweaking the fabrics of the Tapestry. He may or may not be freaking out the newcomer but the newcomer doesn't have a stellar track record insofar as convincing other people that he isn't constantly freaked out goes. If this is a Fallen or a Marauder he'll figure it out sooner rather than later.

Sam points to an area somewhere near his temple. He isn't wearing a helmet so when he frowns Alexander can see it.

"I don't..." I can't see your face dude help me out here. And then he realizes he's not responding appropriately and puts his hand back in his pocket. "Hi."

Grace

Grace comes to save the day from awkward greetings by opening the door. Alex is there, as expected. Someone else is with him, who isn't.

"Alex, hey, what's up? Come in," she says, opening the door wider, and giving the other guy a quizzical look. "This a friend of yours?"

No, wait... That guy is familiar, isn't he?

"Oh, hey! You're that guy from the pho place! With the emails! I remember now."

Alexander

First encounters don’t always go smoothly. Sometimes it’s like old friends – who knows, even friends from past lives – reuniting and hitting it off like they had always known each other. This isn’t one of those times. This time, there’s caution. Distance. Barriers. Things that ward off connection, unless some way is found to breach them.

It’s either surprising or fitting that Grace is the one to start those connections forming. Given her choice of Tradition, it could possibly be considered poetic. Assuming any of them had a poetic heart to consider it.

Alexander hadn’t made any attempt to be overtly threatening, but he hadn’t done anything to lessen the threat that his size and presence and anonymity created. He noted the head-tapping but didn’t do anything about it. He’s about to ask something when the door opens – the visor turning to see who was emerging.

“You know this guy? He ok?” One interesting question would be who of the two of them would be best suited for taking care of an unwelcome visitor. They each have their own skills and approaches for dealing with problems.

Samir

Grace recognizes him after a time. He knew she would have trouble. He said so in the first email he ever wrote her. She remembered him in text but in person is a different fucking story. In person he would prefer not to exist. In person he is stuck inside his own head. In text the entire world is open to him.

That doesn't mean it doesn't jolt him when Alexander refers to him like he isn't standing right there. They can both see it jolt him. Excuse me? writes itself across his face though he doesn't voice it. He doesn't voice anything. He can actually understand where the man wearing the bike helmet is coming from. He waits for Grace to respond anyway.

Grace

"He's ok, yeah. Samir. I told him he could come by and meet the robots," she says, to Alex.

"Samir, this is Alex. He's a friend." And a cop. But also, unlikely enough, a friend.

"You guys want uh... coffee? There's also waffles. Listen, I don't want to sit here with the door hanging open because Pomegranate likes to bolt for the outside and then cries when she can't get back in."

Alexander

He’s a friend. There’s a one-shouldered shrug and the leathered figure moves to remove the helmet. Like the others present, he does have a slight tendency to slide from notice or memory. Maybe not as much as they do, but he does tend to blend in with a crowd more easily than most. When the helmet does come off, they might notice some bruising around his face. It doesn’t seem to be anything that’s bothering him, though.

“Sorry about that. Hi, Samir. Alexander.” Sorry Grace, that stick is still up his ass about that one. He pulls the glove off his right hand and offers it in greeting. “I wasn’t sure if you were meant to be here or not.”

Grace offers coffee. “I’d love some, but this is a bit of a flying visit. I wanted to ask you about that text message you sent.” Which one? The one about Kalen, who he’s deliberately not mentioning because he doesn’t know how much or little Samir know about the people in the city. “You’re sure he’s… Not a clone? Or anything else funky? Because that man I saw in the park really didn’t feel like him.”

Samir

Nothing overt in his desire not to shake Alexander's hand but there is hesitation. Like he has to gauge the social implications of not doing so and weigh it against his own discomfort and Samir can't lie for shit so they can both see he is uncomfortable for a second before forcing a smile and putting out his right hand to grasp the bigger man's.

"No problem," he says. Note the accent: he's Canadian. Or learned to speak English in Canada. "Sorry to show up unannounced."

And then the offer of coffee and the text message Grace sent and someone may or may not be a clone and Sam is frowning but not interrupting. Fidgeting a bit. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other and tries to fight the urge to check his phone but fails the more Alexander talks. Okay. He's been here four minutes. Fuck.

Grace

Neither of them are getting the hint that Grace Evans is not a doorstop, so she steps outside and shuts the door behind her. She wasn't lying about the cat being catlike and indecisive about what constitutes her territory.

"Right," Grace says, looking at Alex. "I've told you about Seekings before. When I have had them, I change, but not everything. Kalen is different. The connection he has? His Avatar? It's a thing of changes. Metamorphosis. When he goes to find himself, he is another person each time. He told me that once, a long time ago. Now, when I first saw him after, you know, I thought the same as you. But he hasn't been not-Kalen, and his memories check out. You can stay away from him if you think it's wise, but personally, that would be kind of sad. You know?"

She keeps eye contact as she talks -- rare for Grace. But it can get uncomfortable, with how she can stare a hole into you. There's a sigh, and then she looks to Samir. "Don't worry about the unannouncing. I don't care. Gave me an excuse to stop cleaning the bathroom."

Samir

For what it's worth Sam did not go inside because Alexander did not go inside. Some sort of cultural thing or he's nervous or he thought he had more than a few seconds to decide whether he was going inside or fucking it and leaving.

"Why would you want to stop cleaning the bathroom?"

It sounds like he's joking. Maybe he is joking. Neither of them know him enough to say whether he's joking for real or joking in a self-depreciating way of joking or just not joking at all. It sounds like he's joking though. Nobody actually likes cleaning the bathroom.

Alexander

Alexander wasn’t planning on staying, so heading in seems rather pointless when he’s going to be leaving again in the next few minutes.

He does nod thoughtfully as Grace explains Seekings again. It wasn’t exactly that he was unfamiliar with people changing. He knows several people who have grown after Seekings. But it had always been the case that it was a growth – the way they felt deepened and became more complex. Kalen was the first who had completely replaced what he was with something else, regardless of whether he’d chosen it or it had happened to him.

“I won’t shoot him when I see him then.” Alex grins a little, but a little awkwardly. “Naah, I’ll talk to him. I think that maybe the circumstances weren’t the best for finding out that it had happened to him, you know?”

Alex looks to Samir, after almost forgetting that he was standing there. “Sorry to interrupt. If you’re here for the grand tour then I can leave you guys to get on with it. I still want to see mecha-Gamera, though, Grace. Next time, though.”

Grace

She rolls her eyes at Samir. "I know, right? Pinnacle of human endeavors, cleaning the bathroom. So pleasant and enjoyable. Wouldn't want to ever stop..."

"And please don't shoot my friend, Alex," Grace says, rubs her eyes. "I'd have to shoot you back, and the blood would get everywhere. Talking to him sounds like a great idea, yeah."

Okay, so, with Alex on his way out, this leaves Samir, and getting him through the door. Grace turns around, puts her finger on the print scanner and heaves the door open again with a crunch of machinery noise.

Samir

So much talk of shooting. Sam definitely looks uncomfortable now. Some combination of meeting people in the meatspace and this occurring outside of his already slim comfort zone and the helmet and fuck. He puts on a tight smile and lifts his hand to give a likewise tight farewell wave to Alexander and then there goes the print scanner.

"Nice to meet you," says the voice belonging to the man Alexander won't be able to recognize later.

Okay. Inside. Yes. Good.

Alexander

“Hey, I’d only shoot him for a really good reason! I’m happy to just throw stuff at him when he’s being his usual dense self. If you bump into him, tell him I’ll be in touch.”

To Samir, “Nice to meet you too. Sorry if I scared you and all. And… I really don’t go around shooting people.” Well, not unless they’re mad cannibalistic Adepts. Or spirit-possessed-and-corrupted human hosts. Or they shoot first. But those things don’t really need to be said. “Enjoy the tour!”

Alex throws them a wave before returning to his bike, to disappear to do whatever it is he needs to be doing. Probably not shooting people.

Samir

Vague hand gestures that indicate oh no you didn't scare me okay you did scare me I'm a shitty liar I'm pretending to be cool with this entire thing yeah okay great bye in the slow span of about three seconds before he plunges it back into his pocket and follows Grace inside. Harder to get shot if you're inside. Hypothetically. Statistically you're more likely to get shot inside than outside but Sam hasn't got much use for statistics.

Grace

Inside, Samir will find the place decorated to an eccentric Hermetic's taste. It looks different on the inside, with walls painted in jewel-hues, and expensive wooden furniture. There is a Bengal cat staring at the door, pissed off that it's closed again, and not at all concerned about the New Person. She flicks her tail and walks off in disgust, the way cats do when they've had their plans stymied.

"So yeah, this is the place. I work here, and only technically live in my apartment, you know? It's nice here. More secure than any apartment at least. Had a... bad experience at my actual living space with some witch-hunting pieces of shit, and this place has nice comfy couches. Speaking of which, you are welcome to crash here if you need a place that's safe."

Grace talks and talks, and also starts making her way up the stairs without paying much attention to Samir. He can follow, or he can wander around. You get the impression that basically anything goes with her.

"Kalen's my 'business partner', he works here, and his apprentice Elijah lives here. We get others from time to time too. We have a gun range in the Warehouse next door, a laser-tag arena, a library in dead tree and digital form, some servers because Kalen was certain we needed multiples of them so that they would have other machines to talk to when they got lonely... You met him right?"