Well, I’ll give you points for honesty

Alexander

There’s a reason why Alexander had chosen this apartment when he had been looking for somewhere to live in the city: the view from the balcony. There were cheaper places to live; places that would have been a lot more convenient for the work commute. But none of them had the view of The Rockies that this place had.

The apartment itself is fairly small, not surprising given the local rents. The entrance leads straight into the living room. One wall is dominated by the glass doors leading onto the balcony. The opposite wall holds the kitchen and utility closet. A closed door opposite the entrance to the flat leads into what it most likely the bedroom.

A couch sits between the balcony door and the kitchen, turned to catch the view. A TV sits on a stand to the left of the door and is currently on, playing music. A book case is tucked into the corner on the other side of the door, loosely filled. A low coffee table sits in front of the couch, topped with a couple of books and a mug of coffee. Judging by the smell in the apartment, the filter coffee maker was only recently fired up. A mobile phone sits on the table too, streaming music to the TV.

Alexander is currently lying on the couch, reading. This could be surprising to some who know him; he’s never been the bookish sort. But he’d thought it time to start at least trying to study for the detective exam.

Ihsan

The night was a peaceful one. The harsh cold spell that punctuated the later half of November had broken and the day had been warmer. A number of people had gone out in hoodies and hats today instead of thick parkas and scarves. When the sun dipped behind those majestic mountains, though, the chill was quick to reclaim the land.

The metal railing leading up the exterior stairs to this particular apartment building was still warm from the day, warmer than the air around it at this time. In the morning it would try to steal skin from the palms that dared to run along it, though.

This part of town wasn't terrible, really. There wasn't much danger of having somebody with a small knife ask for your wallet while you were trying to unlock your car and go home. Alexander shouldn't have to worry about much here, once he's home and settled in and away from the precinct and the other Awakened.

This was probably why it was so surprising when a sharp rapping occurred on his door.

Knock-knock-knock-knock!

Alexander

This wasn’t a place that many of the Awakened even knew about. Sera was probably the only one who had been here, and even then not for long. A couple of her friends – Natalee and Dan – had stayed to keep an eye on him the day that he’d Woken Up and into the night. But since then, he’d tried to keep barriers between his lives.

When Ihsan reached the apartment door, the faint sound of music – the Pink Floyd version of Comfortably Numb, if she recognises it – drifts through. There’s a short pause after she knocks, almost as if someone had just dozed off and been woken up unexpectedly. “Just a minute,” comes the reply.

He takes a moment to stretch after standing, dumping the book back on the seat of the couch, before making the short walk to the door. It swings open, giving Alexander and Ihsan their first opportunity to see each other since their first and only encounter at the police department. Alexander stands there barefoot in t-shirt and basketball shorts, eyes momentarily wide as he sees who his visitor is.

“Well, so much for not shitting where I eat. What are you doing here?” His tone isn’t what anybody would call warm or welcoming, but he hasn’t just slammed the door in her face. There’s no indication that she’s welcome to enter, though. And at least he’s had some warning that she’s one of them now. That alone stops him shutting the door to look for his gun. It doesn’t make him any happier that she’s here, though.

Ihsan

Let's say the apartment was laid out in a way that each door was out into the elements-- the 'hallways' exterior structures that really were just glorified fire exits that everything was connected by. Sturdy, sure, but it was no hallway with lights and walls.

Ihsan stood outside dressed in a black trench coat that stitched in at the waist and was cut at the hip. A dark gray scarf was worn over her head and around her neck. She wore dark jeans and a pair of black boots. Smiled charmingly when he opened the door.

"Apologizing." The word was heavily accented, sounding of desert sands and purring like a death rumble from yellow savanna grasses.

"I thought you were... ah....," the pause for the phrase she was seeking in English. "in on the joke."

She shivered visibly, probably put on for show. It was cool, in the mid-thirties, but not that cold.

Alexander

Alexander stands there unmoving, just watching Ihsan as she speaks. Considering her and what she’d said. It certainly wasn’t the reply he’d expected to get, any more than it was the visitor he might have expected.

“No. I wasn’t.” There’s a subtle softening of his tone, followed by another moment of contemplation. A moment followed by the pushing open of the door and his stepping to one side. This was quite possibly going to be one of those conversations where it’s best to have some sort of privacy. It’s as much invitation in as she’s getting, though.

Ihsan

There's something in the quality of grin that Ihsan wore that made it seem almost like he'd just invited an old storybook vampire over the threshold. She stepped into the apartment and what immediately entered into a living space.

He may have not been friendly about opening the door to let her in, but an invitation was exactly that. And you know what they say about giving an inch.

She stalked into the small space with her hands in her pockets and hunted for titles on books from a distance and paintings on walls or photos in frames. This was all with casual, open curiosity, almost idle as she addressed the point of her visit.

"I suppose you have heard about the Kozlowski murder. Do you simply leave the case open, or do you try to arrest the killer?"

Ihsan's favorite thing to do was rip right into the throat of a conversation, apparently.

Alexander

Alexander lets Ihsan past and pushes the door closed, twisting the lock behind them. He doesn’t return to the couch, doesn’t make himself comfortable. He does step over to the counter that separates the little kitchen from the living room and leans on it, watching Ihsan make her round of the room.

The books give a good indication of what Alexander might find interesting, although some might simply be of professional interest. There is a stack of procedural manuals at the bottom of the bookcase, their heft helping to hold it stable. Then there’s a book on gun maintenance, a couple of teach yourself meditation books. There’s a bigger selection of books on the mountains, on climbing, on hiking, on camping and hunting and surviving; a book on astronomy, a couple of books about owls. The one open on the couch, with its spine bent back, is something on criminology. The room is bare of photos and paintings. Why bother with a painting when you have a mountain staring at you through the window?

Something through the window, though, might catch Ihsan’s attention. An owl sits, perched on the wooden barrier that guards the outer edge of the balcony. It seems to be asleep. There’s some old guano on the floor of the balcony, and several old balls of regurgitated remains dot its surface too.

Ihsan doesn’t spare any time for meaningless pleasantries, and neither does Alexander. “I was taken off the case as soon as the detectives arrived. I kept an eye on things until you turned up.” There’s a short, meaningful silence. “I picked up word that the murderer was probably female, and she had hit several other states. As far as I know, the FBI picked the case after that. What they did or didn’t do, I have no idea.

“Grace told me that everything had been dealt with. That’s all I know.”

Ihsan

The bookshelf held her interest the longest-- it was in front of this that she ultimately settled, taking her time to read titles more carefully. From this vantage point she spotted the owl outside the window. Paused, surprised by it (but not startled). Looked a little pleased to see it, honestly.

"Ooh, a goose chase. That is good. Did you set them up on that one?" The question was sincere, and Ihsan looked back to Alexander with a curious raise of eyebrows. Whether he did or didn't was neither here nor there. Ultimately she wound up plucking one of the books on hunting and surviving from the shelf and glanced at its back cover.

"Is that Owl out there? Or simply an owl?"

Alexander

“Goose chase?” Alexander cocks his head, puzzled. “I heard that the profilers thought that the killer was a woman, and that the other murders were too similar for it to be coincidental. Disembowelling people and wrapping their guts around their neck is a fairly unique signature, don’t you think?

“What was it you wanted to tell me about the murder, anyway? You said you were there to help.”

The last questions are a little more puzzling. Alexander glances out of the window at the snoozing form. He’d be rousing soon, fluttering off into the night to find food. Although with the move into winter, Alexander had started keeping a small stash of frozen rodents in the freezer. “Owl? It’s an owl, yeah. Was there a particular owl you were looking for?”

Ihsan

"I wasn't sure if it was the spirit of Owl or not. He does come across in manifestations, from time to time." Her slim shoulders jerked up and dropped down again in a dismissive shrug, and the book was tucked back into its same place on the shelf.

"I had known that the murder had something Magickal to it. Grace had told me of it, and that you were investigating it. I wanted to investigate too. Put things right. I hadn't figured that the killer was working toward the balance."

Maybe some things were lost in translation, or maybe she was getting a little lost in her own Paradigm. More likely than not it was a bit of both. She waved her hand in the air to indicate that she was moving on to the next point of the explanation.

"I had figured you wanted to do it on your own because you didn't think I knew what I was doing. It didn't occur to me that you thought I was a Suit."

Alexander

“As far as I know, he’s just an ordinary owl. We met a while ago, things happened, and now he’s chosen to make his home there. He might be a spirit; I’ve never actually tried looking at him that way.” There’s a cocking of Alexander’s head as he considers it. Given the strange circumstances of their meeting, it could be a possibility.

The comment about balance gets another cocked head. Alexander may not know vast amounts about the Traditions – hell, he barely knows much more than the name and the stereotypes surrounding some of them – but that does sound familiar from past discussions. “Working toward the balance? How do you mean? I though the murderer was Fallen, not Euthanatos?”

But, then, to the talk of their... well, not ill-fated meeting. That would imply that Fate has some kind of involvement in much of anything. Unfortunate meeting, then. Alexander hops up and perches on the edge of the counter, resting his elbows on his knees. He glances down at the floor, sighing, before he continues speaking.

“Has anybody told you that the Union are starting to take more of an interest in the city? I was warned that agents had already started trying to infiltrate the department. So when someone Awakened mysteriously shows up, asking about a murder case that wasn’t common knowledge; one where there was some trace of resonance at the scene? Well, what was I supposed to think? It’s not like you gave any hints about who had tipped you off.” Now he straightens up, leaning back and resting his hands on the counter behind him. “I rather got the impression you were enjoying whatever little game you thought you were playing.” Now he watches her, watches for her reaction.

Ihsan Ghali

Alexander hopped up on the counter, explained his positioning, and commented on her apparent enjoyment in stringing him along down the path of worry and misinterpretation. Ihsan's answer was a big grin across her full mouth.

"Oh, I was," she said matter-of-factly. Finished with the bookcase, she walked back toward the front of the apartment and stood on the side of the kitchen counter opposite of where Alexander had been, so that the door on out was to her immediate left. Her hands stayed in her pockets for the time being, she didn't rest them on the counter or lean into his space.

"There was a Fallen roaming the scene and causing anguish for many people, yes. She was also responsible for some deaths. But not that death in particular, oh no." She shook her head before carrying on.

"I am Chakravanti myself. That is why I was concerned with the death being unbalanced. Those deaths... they weren't at the right time. But it is sorted out. The Fallen is gone, so she won't be driving anybody toward those murders again."

Alexander

“Well, I’ll give you points for honesty if nothing else.” Alexander doesn’t show any sign of humour, of having enjoyed being toyed with then or, as he’s starting to think, now. If anything, the patience that he’d shown was starting to wear a little thin.

He stays perched on the counter, not making any attempt to get away or to move her away. Not yet, at least. What thawing there had been in his voice, though, was disappearing again. “But now the whole issue has been dealt with, and as it appears your attempt to apologise is only so much hot air, I ask you again: What are you doing here?”

Ihsan Ghali

The question of why she was even there came away in a voice that was a bit more chilled again. Social hour seemed to be coming to a close, and the man in his own home and perfectly comfortable and confident in himself there was growing impatient with her nonsense. Why was she there? She blinked thoughtfully at the question, then shrugged her shoulders.

"Call me old fashioned. I wanted to apologize for having you worried for your safety. I hadn't known about your precint being infiltrated. Or about the interest that the Technocracy has shown here. I'm new to the area." It sounded like a good excuse, honest truth or not.

"At this point, though, I'm truthfully just waiting to feel warm before going back out in the night."

A few awkward ticks of silence passed and she tapped the heels of her boots together, then inquired: "So... Do you travel? I am going to London soon. To stop a death cult."

Alexander

There had been a moment when Alexander had wondered if this was someone who he’d be able to talk to about all things Spirit. Alyssa, the first person he’d really picked anything up from, was long gone. Lucy had vanished without a trace, to who knows where. There wasn’t really anyone else around who he knew well enough to learn from. The moment had passed, though. For now, at least. Maybe things would change over time, as they had with Ian – and hadn’t that been a wonderful first encounter too.

“Ms Ghali. The whole communication thing was FUBAR’d, and you’re not the only one at fault there. You’ve made your feelings on what happened quite clear. But let me make mine equally clear. I do not like being played with. I do not like having Awakened affairs eating into my Sleeper life any more than they absolutely have to, and that includes where I live as well as where I work. So I don’t expect to see you here, or at the station, again. If you need to get hold of me, speak to Grace.”

He hops off the counter and steps around Ihsan, around the couch, to retrieve his mug. “Now you obviously have important things to be getting on with. Travel arrangements and the like. If there’s nothing else you wanted to talk about, please don’t let me keep you any longer.” He returns to the kitchen area, putting the counter between them, before throwing the remains of the mug in the sink and refilling it from the filter jug.

Ihsan Ghali

The woman didn't appear offended by the minor lecture she was receiving about leaving Alexander's sleeper life alone. No tapping on the precinct's front desk, no rapping on his front door either. She glanced over her shoulder at the door itself and raised her eyebrows, as though considering it some kind of a challenge. Whatever that thought process had been went unvocalized, though. She pulled her scarf back up over her head and fastened her coat near her throat, clearly preparing herself to leave as he began to speak of her travel arrangements and how she'd better be on her way.

"Well, let that be that, then. I won't be getting a hold of you through Grace, though. I have my own means of finding people."

Sure, that means was a hermit of a man who happened to be her best friend's boyfriend, but Alexander didn't have to know that. Instead she grinned wryly and took a hold of the doorknob.

"You enjoy your night, Officer Brandt. Perhaps Fate will find us together again."

And as it was highly unlikely that he would stop her vocally or otherwise, Ihsan then found her way out and back into the night

I don’t want to be left hanging

Alexander

Winter has well and truly taken the city in its grip. The temperature during the day barely scrapes above freezing, nights are colder. The temperamental weather that the area is known for – at least by its residents – has turned from wind and rain to wind and snow. It’s cold.

Cold cold cold.

It’s sometime around noon, give or take an hour or so. The sky is bright and white and holding the promise of yet more snow. A light sprinkling falls, blown around by the occasional gust of frigid wind, making the more distant parts of the park – and the city – seem even further away.

In the park there is a playground. The spring-mounted animals are covered with snow, not cleared or used since the thick downfall of snow during the night. Likewise with the roundabout – not even a trail of footprints leads to it. Maybe when it’s a little warmer, or parents are a little more desperate to keep their offspring entertained in the short winter days, the park will show some sort of life again.

There is a trail of footprints leading to the swings, though. A lone figure, dressed for the weather, sits on one of the swings and... well, just watches the snow really. He swings gently, rocking back and forth with his feet staying on the ground. His hands are currently gloveless, cupping a disposable paper cup between them.

He seems to somehow fit into the near-frozen scene.

Kalen

[How distracted by Resonance are we?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 6, 6, 8, 10, 10) ( success x 5 )

Alexander

[While we're at it, Awareness too]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 1, 2, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Kalen

Even Kalen, who loves Washington Park, comes here barely at all in winter. Of course, he still likes to come close to it, close enough at least that he might sense The Message. He has not, not for some time, but that has not dimmed his hopes. Instead of an angelic (if not Angelic) spirit he senses someone else, more familiar but someone he also met at the same time in the same place.

Kalen stops to buy hot chocolate before he heads out into the park. Alexander has something, or had, Kalen isn't totally sure. He sets Alexander's hot chocolate, not in a paper cup but in a reusable lidded cup with a snowman on it, in the snow near him. It's insulated. The snow will protect it well enough from falling.

WIth one (very definitely gloved) hand now free, He swipes at the snow on one of the swings next to Alexander, settling onto it once enough of the snow has been cleared off to satisfy him. It's hardly as though he'd have much noticed the snow through his long wool coat. No hat, though. Kalen never seems to do hats. Coats, gloves, scarves, boots...but not hats.

"You know I got in a snowball fight for the first time the other day," he says. Because who says hello, really, with people they know? Okay. Plenty of people, but not so much Kalen. That is for other people.

Alexander

Alex also has reasons for coming here. As Kalen, a hope that The Message would one day make an appearance is one of them. There hadn’t been a promise, the last time they had met. Nothing so definite. He had asked to travel with The Message some time, and there had been an acknowledgement that it could, perhaps, happen. So he waits.

There were other reasons for coming here, though. The park was equally a good place to watch people as it was a place to be alone; it was all a matter of timing. Although this wasn’t really a place to come if there was no desire to be with others. It was just too well travelled for that. A crossroads in the city. But, for the moment, it was a place of relative quiet. Oh, there’s the occasional sound of traffic: a honking horn, a car alarm going off, the sirens of one emergency service or other making their way through the city. But there are times when it’s just the wind, and you can almost hear the snow settling on the ground.

Alexander feels Kalen’s approach, still getting used to the change in his Resonance. He could have left, if he’d wanted to. If it had been Grace, he might have done. Or Ms Ghali. But Kalen? Kalen he stays for.

Alex’s cup had pretty much run dry, so it’s emptied with one last swig. The new cup is picked up and the empty, paper one slipped back into the indentation in the snow. He goes back to gently rocking on the swing.

You know I got in a snowball fight for the first time the other day. Alexander smiles. He had missed this. Had missed Kalen, and his randomness. “Oh? I’d assume that it wasn’t in Santiago, but given the strange stuff that we drag around I’m not sure it would actually surprise me if it had been. How was it?”

Kalen

"Well," Kalen says. "I've learned to preemptively wear gloves." He sounds amused though, so he can't have been too scarred by the experience. "It was in Denver. I was meeting a new addition to Denver who is...either unable to speak or chooses not to speak. My guess would be the former, but there are people who take vows of silence, so I would not presume."

"I talked to Grace and then set up a new phone for you. I probably should have just carried it around with me, upon reflection. But, there is a phone for you ready. You can drop by to pick it up at the library or I can bring it into the city. I'm running no few errands here over the next week, so it's no trouble."

"How've you been?"

Alexander

There’s a snort of amusement from Alex as Kalen mentions the gloves. “Yeah, gloves are kinda required uniform for snowball fights. It tends to be a short fight if you have to duck out because you can’t feel your hands any more.” He takes a sip from cup, testing to see what – if any – additions had been made when it was bought.

“Another newcomer? New new? Or just new to town?”

The rocking stops when Kalen mentions his talk with Grace. What had happened with Ms Ghali had obviously come up if he’d sorted out a new, Gingered phone. “What did she tell you?”

How’ve you been?

“I’m told that’s something of a loaded question to be asking these days. I’m better than I have been for the past month or so.” The month where I thought I had picked up Union interest and cut myself off from everyone.

Kalen

It is, for Kalen, exceptionally boring hot chocolate. Good. But there are no flavored marshmallows or alcohol. Clearly this was a concession in the interest of actually catching Alexander before he left the park, over parading to four stores to actually fuss over a thing.

"Not much," Kalen says quietly. "That you and another of our new arrivals had a bit of an unfortunate meeting. She may also have mentioned that I should perhaps also give you your blanket before Christmas too, because she thinks she may have accidentally given you the impression everyone hates you."

There is a faint smile. "Though, knowing her and knowing you, whatever isolationist tendencies you display I wouldn't necessarily put down to something she's influenced overly much. At least not since your rather rocky introduction to our red-headed friend." He looks over at Alexander, eyes seeming more green against the grey he's wearing and the snow obscuring so much of the color that would otherwise draw more attention. Serious. Calm. "We're here for you. Whether it's dangerous or not. You're not on your own with any of this unless you want to be.

"And even then I retain the right to throw things at you and tell you to get over yourself and let me help, because that's totally club privileges apparently."

Alexander

There’s another snort, although this one is definitely less amused than the first. If it wasn’t already cold in the little playground, things would certainly feel frostier than they did a few minutes before.

“If you count her showing up at the station completely unannounced, talking about a murder case that might have involved an Awakened as unfortunate. This after Sasha had warned me to be on the lookout for Union agents trying to worm their way into the department. Yeah, that could have gone better. And that’s why I shredded my phone. Because I thought keeping it in once piece put Ginger, and you guys, in danger. “

He pushes back, setting the swing in motion. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself because I think everyone hates me. I’m pissed because I was forgotten about. I’m pissed because I wasn’t worth the ten seconds it would have taken to say ‘a friend of Michael is coming to see you’. I’m pissed because that woman who showed up was more interested in yanking my chain than finding some way to let me know who had sent her. I’m pissed because I’ve been waiting for someone with a black suit to want a little chat, when that was never going to happen.” His voice does get louder, but it does get harder as he runs through what’s bothering him. Some of it, anyway.

The swing slows again, Alex sighing as he returns to just rocking back and forth a little. “I did think about staying off Ginger again. But I guess I am better off being able to listen into what’s going on. I don’t particularly want to be alone, but that swings both ways. I don’t want to be left hanging like that again either.”

Kalen

"Well, I didn't hear much about any of that. If I had known, I would have told you." And if he had been in Denver would he have known? He couldn't say for certain. "We've all been quieter than we should have been in that sense, and I think...I think partly that's my fault. I did stop talking to...most of Denver and the other people who tended to be most communicative are gone.

"I could have tried to reach out instead of being a jerk. I probably should have. And maybe...." And maybe what, Kalen? Maybe you should what, be responsible for monitoring all of Denver? How even would you do that.

"Sometimes I miss having more structure because there were less of these moments. But...." There is something he almost says, something that is probably important. "But I stay here. That's really all...here. But later.

"There are a few things we should discuss. I'm leaving soon, for a business thing. If...the one thing is personal but the other...if I am gone and you haven't heard about the family reunion, ask Sasha. I know you can find her if you need to and she's involved in everything else since...well, before last weekend, but that's when she and Kiara and Henry and I talked.

"So...this you aren't so much behind on. And our lovely red-headed friend isn't even involved in this one."

Alexander

“Kalen, this isn’t your fault. You weren’t here, you didn’t know, and you can’t be responsible for what everyone else does or doesn’t do. But this woman could have found some way to tell me. Grace could have warned me. Hell, Michael could have found some way to warn me. But apparently there were more important things to be getting on with.”

Alex pushes off again. “You ever think that is how we forget why we do this?” This time Alex does turn his head to look at Kalen. “Why we fight? Does it get to the point where it’s just the fight that matters? Is that how Victoria became what she did?” Again, the swing slows.

He watches Kalen, though, as he says – and doesn’t say – whatever it is on his mind. “Hey, are you ok? Did something happen in Santiago? Or is this all since you got back?”

A beat passes, confusion appearing on Alex’s face. “Kalen, what the hell’s going on? What family, and who the hell is Henry?”

Kalen

Kalen processes that for a few seconds. The list of people who have given warnings. The assurance it is not his fault. The flurry of questions. "Yeah, some things happened in Santiago, but not...." Kalen smiles, and it is, for at least right then, radiant. The circumstances of their conversation and the other things that this is about bleed some of the light out of his eyes, but for a second Alexander gets to see the very rarely seen absolutely thrilled with life version of Kalen.

"I'm better than I've been in a long time. Here, let's get out of here so we can really talk." He slips off of his swing and onto his feet. "I'll tell you everything."

Alexander

For the moment Alexander is even more confused. Happy for his friend, as it’s so rare to see him so alive. But, then, what was it that pulled him away from that radiance so quickly. Suddenly concerned about what might be going on that he doesn’t know about – even if access to Ginger wouldn’t have been any more help with that little niggle.

His swing finally stops and, after grabbing the empty cup with his free hand, stands. “Why do I start to worry when you tell me that?” Alex follows wherever Kalen leads them to, though.

---

Kalen

This place of Kalen's is minimally decorated. There is a wreath on the door and there are little arrangements with candles and pine cones and holly sprigs, but there is no tree. No pinatas. Still, the house smells like evergreen and cinnamon. Kalen heads into the living room, where there are a few bags and a little pile of neatly stacked rolls of wrapping paper and a little mound or ribbons and a stack of gift bags and tissue paper. He glances over a neat parade of already wrapped gifts and picks up one of the gift bags. A wintery scene. With glittery snow.

"Phone," he says absently. "Also blanket. The phone was less for Christmas and more put in the bag so I could carry it around. People get very puzzled when you hand off prepaid phones at random." And there is, nestled in a heavy wool blanket in mottled shades of dark blue, a prepaid phone with Ginger already installed. Also Kalen's information. Because of course also that.

If Alexander really examines that though, he'll see an additional number labelled 'Santiago' and an international phone number.

"Well, you're about to speed on the family reunion and the possible war with the Technocracy. You think quite possibly I'm crazy to try this olive branch thing. I'm ridiculously optimistic." Kalen flops onto one half of the couch, mostly finished cocoa in hand. "The update is that Henry, this rather eccentric Hermetic who mentored Elijah for a little while and who also happens to be the father of one of the visiting Hermetics, and Sasha found out about Orrin's plan this weekend and are going to try to get this whole attack called right the fuck off.

"Sasha is kind of terrifying, by the way. I might love her." He says that in a tone that conveys not a trace of romantic interest. Kalen just has an appreciation for people who are terrifying.

"And they had an artifact that...for reasons I support we are not making a public discussion. It's old. And powerful. And incomplete." Kalen sighs. "I'm a little nervous about making it whole but I did scry for...." He can practically taste blood again. "I trust at least Kiara and Henry. Sasha...personally I barely know her but she seems fine. Anyway, Kiara and I are headed off in about a week to get a piece of the artifact that is missing. It's far from complete even then." Kalen shrugs. "Honestly, I'm willing to let that be Henry and Sasha's show."

"They're not telling me everything. But I don't think they need to."

Alexander

Alexander follows Kalen into the house, closing the front door firmly behind them as they enter. The gift bag? The contents get a brief look before the bag is set on the ground next to Alex’s feet, as he takes a seat on the couch.

And then he listens in silence. And he stays silent when Kalen’s explanation of recent happenings ends, running over what he’s just been told.

“I do think you’re nuts, but I’ve already told you I’ll watch your back while you try to do what you need to. I can’t really see Daddy telling Orrin to stop trying to start a war working, but it’s worth a try I guess. It has the advantage of being fairly low in risk.

“How well do you know Henry? And this artefact, did they say what it was? What it does? What risk there is in fetching this last bit of it?” There’s a more meaningful look at Kalen with this last question.

“Is that all that they’ve told you? Because I’d want to know a damned sight more than that, especially if there’s any great risk involved in the whole thing.”

Kalen

"Oh, he's Richard's father. Richard is...both more reasonable and higher ranked than Orrin. I don't know that it will work, but at least there is a change he'll see reason and this will be over. And then we can figure out what the hell is with Atreyu's little group absent immanent war.

"I was with Henry when he found the map. He told me it led to a powerful artifact. I...I looked into the future. I got...omens are not like video footage from the future. But Henry having it...I'm okay with that. Or I wouldn't have given it to him when I got the puzzle sphere open."

"There will probably be some risk, there always is. Power is always dangerous. I...I'm fine with that. And handling the stone may give me more insight into what this is. I'm going to see what I figure out searching for the stone we have a location for. I think I might be able to find out more from them when I bring the stone back.

"But I'm not worried. Not about them. Kiara I trust because I've gotten to know her, Henry I trust because of the scrying, and Sasha...we have no reason not to trust her or her cabal. And they have been sharing their Node and their Library and their home with us. That's not nothing."

Alexander

“I can’t say I’m keen on much of any of this. Orrin and Richard want to start a war without, apparently, considering the poor bastards caught in the crossfire. And now there’s some magical MacGuffin that’s supposed to make everything better, when we don’t have a clue what it is, what it does, if it works, or how the damned thing can go wrong.

“Oh, I trust Sasha and her cabal. And if you think Kiara and Henry are good people, I’m definitely willing to give them time. But even so, it feels an awful lot like we’re being sent off on errands without enough detail to really make an informed choice about whether we should or not.

“I’m fed up of being made to feel like a child around those who have power. Be a darling and run off on this errand, there’s a good little Mage.”

Kalen

Kalen laughs. "I had a choice, at least on this errand. It would have been easy enough to refuse. If nothing else, being halfway around the world when Orrin finds out I'm trying to cancel his war sounds like a decent idea. That's probably the last bridge I have to burn with the Order, but I have no intention of letting them start that war.

"Of course," And here his tone softens. Warms. "There are other places I can go. And, regardless of how well this does or doesn't blow over, probably will." He sighs.

"What Marcellus and I wanted to build...he meant to rebuild them in the process. He was my mentor and practically my father, but his plans...they need not be mine. Even if his dreams still are."

Alexander

“What about the others in the Order? Do they know what those guys have planned for the city? Surely someone sees the insanity of starting a war between vampires and Awakened? Or do they really think that the vampires will stop to check that it’s the right kind of Mage that they’re about to kill?”

Alex slumps back in the couch, resting his head against the back of it. “Are you really that close to being kicked out of the Order? Or does it not work that way? And... go? You’re planning on leaving then?”

Others had come and gone through the city in the time that he’d been Awake and aware of their passing, but he’d never really thought that Kalen would be one of the ones to leave. It had always seemed as if he’d chosen to make his stand here, and nothing would make him shift. Alex’s heart sinks at the thought of him leaving.

Kalen

Kalen looks puzzled by Alexander's reaction. And then he registers what Alexander must think. "No." He sets his drink down and settles back onto the couch, this time right at Alexander's side. "Not going anywhere. Quite possibly not that close to getting kicked out of the Order. We did not get our reputation for arrogance for nothing, but I don't know how much support this plan has. I think that if Henry can sway Richard to our side of it we have a real chance even if there is some considerable support.

"Barring that...not going to lie, my plan is to start blackmailing whoever I need to. There's a chance I can trade what I need to know for advance favors which may not be entirely the cleanest things but I know who I'd be working for and...it'd be less fucked up than this."

"And if I can't do that...." Kalen sighs. "I get everyone I can get out of here out and accept, once again, being at war. But I don't intend to let it get to that."

He takes a deep breath. "I meant I have Denver. There is a good chance I could join the Chorus. I mean I could stay here and build the world I want to build with the people I most want to build it with. On my terms. Our terms.

"I can let the past go instead of clinging to fragments of dreams I hadn't the faintest clue how to put back together."

Alexander

Alexander settles back on the couch, relieved that there doesn’t appear to be any imminent risk of Kalen vanishing. Not unless this trip to retrieve the lump of rock goes wrong, or one of the several hundred other ways that a Flambeau is likely to burn out in a blaze of glory occurs.

“There are definitely times when I’m glad I didn’t try joining the Order. I really don’t think the Order and I would have gotten on at all well.” Alex thinks briefly of another mage who has passed out of the city. “Hey, you know I never did get to tell Orrin and Richard to go fuck themselves. Alyssa would be so disappointed. I wonder how she’s getting on these days.” Sid, too. The rest of their little cabal.

Alex sounds almost resigned to what may well come as he nudges Kalen. “I’ll stick around. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” Back to Seattle? It doesn’t really feel like home any more. “Someone has to remind you that you’re only human now and again.”

Kalen

"I'm sure Alyssa is good. But, I know. We might need a new cabalmate. You used to have Alyssa to help you keep me in line and that was when I was just getting all high on pedestrian mortal hubris. Once I can convince myself I'm doing the will of God...." Kalen laughs. "Maybe a few more cabalmates. And a lot of things to throw at me."

"Not that I even have thoughts of who to ask. There are a few of us I really like in Denver, but for us...?" Kalen shrugs, his movement slightly hampered by the fact he's practically on to op of Alexander.

"You want to get a Christmas tree again this year? I got one for the House. But we could do one at the office. You and me and Grace and maybe a couple people. I can make gingerbread men again. Maybe better this year....."

Alexander

“Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s being a massive pain in the ass.” Alex laughs a little before sighing. “I miss her.” Her, and Delilah, and Lucy, and... He shakes his head, shakes away the train of thought. “I wouldn’t know who to ask either. I don’t think I know anyone well enough these days to really suggest anyone. Elijah, maybe?“

“I dunno about the tree. It’s not really feeling a lot like Christmas at the moment. Might be the looming threat of being caught in a war, you know?”

“Well you did manage to avoid opening a portal to a hell dimension the last time you baked. Or was that specific to lasagne? Either way, sounds good. Maybe try making a gingerbread house or something. Or does that lead to throwing children in the oven? I lose track.”

Kalen

"No. Elijah and I...we're fine. But probably he's not really so much for us. If anyone I might suggest Kiara, but I don't know her well enough either." Kalen smiles. "If we find someone, we do. If not...we do fine, just us."

"We should do that. It sounds hilarious. I expect that whatever I try I will end up with ruins."

"Assuming that we manage to avert this looming war, I had a thought...."

Alexander

“I don’t really know Kiara much either. I’ll try to keep an eye out for her, though. You know how it is with us bumping into each other, and all. I might have suggested Lavinia, but she seems to have left town too. She’d probably have been right up there on the smiting front.”

Alex laughs a little again. “Well if you leave it in the oven too long, you can just say it was all intentional. But I’m pretty sure you can build something that will stand. At least until something comes along and takes a big bite out of it.”

He turns his head, curious about the hanging thought. “Oh..? Why do I worry when you have these thoughts? You know that they’re not good for you.”

Kalen

"Well, this sort of ties into the smiting. I...." Kalen sighs and closes his eyes. "It's not that I won't. Show me a monster and it isn't in me to just let it go. But that isn't really who I want to be now.

"Not like before. The Order trained me for war and showed me war and I...would rather find some other, better way." And this is what happens if you leave Kalen alone too long with Ramon. "So I thought, maybe we could set up some kind of program, a community outreach thing. Just...mostly people but also use it to help people that get bruised up in our world and see more than they want to. Maybe we'll find other people through the program. And yeah, it will end up being mostly mundane people and paperwork, but...I want to make a better world some way other than violence.

"I'm just so fucking tired of killing people, because all that means is that I got there too late to save them and it was the only option left. It just...it isn't enough for me anymore."

Alexander

“I think I can get that. That’s why I made a tipoff when that whole corruption spirit thing was ended.” Kalen gets another glance. “Did I ever tell you that before? We were too late to help to people it had already killed, but they still had families. It got them some sort of closure, even if they really found out what had happened. Hopefully knowing that they were dead was enough to let them grieve.” Alexander sighs, closes his own eyes. “I’d love to do the same for the victims of the Nephandus who just tore through town, but I have no idea how this time. I don’t know if there was enough of them left. Not the women he merged, anyway.

“And I think that’s the other thing that’s been bothering me. That it’s all taken care of. Only it isn’t. Not when the parents of the girls are sat at home, wondering if they’ll ever be walking through the door again.

“So, go for it. It might not work, but it’s gotta be worth a try. Right? If nothing else, it might show where things are starting to go bump in the night before they get out of hand.”

Kalen

"Yeah. I'll probably talk to Grace to get it set up, she has more time than you do and we work really well together. But...you can be involved too, if you want. I can't do it by myself."

"And it might serve as a warning system too, yeah." Kalen nods. "And, as much as I wish it were otherwise, I doubt I'm done killing. I don't think I can really walk away from some of the things that we find. I just...if nothing else I want it not to be the only thing anymore."

"And I didn't know, really. But I'm glad at least some of them could know something. I...it's hard having never gotten to say goodbye or hold a funeral or even know with absolute certainty what happened to someone you love. Even if you're about ninety-six-and-a-half percent sure they're gone." And he would know, wouldn't he? The difference between ashes that might be books or floor joists or people you knew and trying and failing to stop blood flowing from a wound you knew was beyond anything you could do but trying anyway and what it was like to view a body lying at rest on a bed of flowers.

"I think we'll get it though," he says. "A better world. A little at a time and maybe not soon enough for everyone we'd hope, but we'll get it."

Alexander

“I know a lot of people get twitchy when any kind of authority figure is involved. Even if I’m not there as a cop, if people get wind that I am then it might make it harder to get people to come forward. I’m not saying I won’t help. Just... you know how Grace was when I come to town? Yeah, that. I’m not sure how you’d be able to keep it under the radar of groups that it would be better to avoid. Vampires as much as Union. “

“I did what I could to keep the magical stuff out of sight. I’m really hoping they all think that it was a serial killer on a spree, for as much comfort as that is. But, you know... The reason we do this? I think that’s as much a part of it as beating back the bad guys in the first place. People aren’t just so much inconvenient flesh, regardless of what certain Hermetics with their wands stuck up their asses think.”

“But, yeah. We’ll get there. Eventually. With gingerbread houses.”

Kalen

"Those too. Now I am going to have to buy so much candy. Ridiculous amounts of candy. This should be amazing."

"I think, if it involved enough mundane people and services, it shouldn't attract any of the wrong attention that way. Only a little of it would really be part of what we do more directly. The rest...I can even dig up mundane volunteers. Staff. Set up fundraisers. It'll be hilarious."

Kalen laughs. "I'm telling you, if this works, next year I am inviting you to build gingerbread houses with graham crackers and milk cartons and a room full of rescued children. And you can pretend to hate it if you want, but I know you won't."

Kalen

[And fade....]