Come with me.

Alexander Brandt

Thresholds: The day is slowly approaching one. The skies over the city have been pretty overcast, although the air itself has remained warm. Recent rains have pushed the humidity up, and it’s starting to feel like a storm approaching. The sun continues its journey through the sky, heading from late afternoon into early evening. There’s definite promise in the air of something to come.

There is a ranch-style house out in Morrison with a blue motorbike parked on the driveway. The rest of the drive is clear at the moment and there aren’t any cars parked nearby on the kerbside either. It would be a good guess that the current occupant is on his own, but one can never tell – one resident of the house uses a pushbike and at least one visitor uses public transport to get out here. But, right now, that guess would be a good one.

Out the back of the house, a couple of chairs have been turned round a little so that they face out from the house. There’s a mirror lying on the table and a leather jacket has been slung over the back of one of the chairs. A pair of bike boots sit just inside the door. It’s quiet until the whistle from a kettle pierces the air. Alexander will be in the kitchen, then. In the kitchen with a teapot, a cup, and a box of tea. It’s certainly no tea ceremony he’s working through, but he is trying out different strengths of tea. Trying to pick up the different tastes and sensations, just as Kalen talked through.

[Do we have a hope in hell of meditating? +1 diff, because no dots]

Dice: 2 d10 TN7 (6, 10) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

Maybe he feels from some living distance, maybe Alexander is far too focused on his meditation on the different strengths of tea to feel the disturbance in the force she carries with her. If he feels her, though - oh, she is distinctive, as so many of them become as their power grows. A peculiar mélange of sensations that are not precisely felt or uttered or known: except, this is what I am, this is how I work, this is what I know.

A white conversion van that has seen somewhat better days in the parking lot beside the blue motorbike now. This time last year that van had North Carolina plates. Now it is registered and licensed in Colorado. Sera isn't driving, and that is nearly always for the best. She slides out the passenger's door and heads right for the door to the kitchen. She knows Alexander is there. The motorbike: she recognizes that doesn't she, from the first time they met, when he Woke Up.

The kitchen door swings open and there she is: her hair up this evening, pulled back into a braid, a cropped band t-shirt drifting over a black satin bra, denim cut-offs and fishnets and combat boots.

She is about to say something (a greeting!) when she notices details. His stillness, his focus. The creature's crawling mouth curls around an unvoiced thought, then and Sera circles the kitchen watching Alexander curiously, forgetting that she meant to hold the door open for Dan who will now have to manage for himself.

Sera waits until there is a break; until Alexander pulls his focus from the task he has laid himself to accomplish. Then, with the edge of a half-grin, " - long fucking time, no see. You gonna freak out if I hug you?"

Alexander Brandt

Time is one of those weird things in life. It gets neatly sliced into seconds, minutes, hours and so on. But being in the second, they’re not all the same length. They can be over in a flash or seem to last an eternity. But then this is truth that most people pay lip service to – time flies when you’re having fun. And Alex, here, is no holder of any greater truth than that.

Only it isn’t exactly fun that he finds himself experiencing. The slowly growing pile of used tea leaves in the bin suggests that, maybe, Alexander has been trying this for quite some time. Trying to clear his mind enough to meditate. Kalen said it works as a focus for some people, so here is his trying it out. But over and over again, there’s always something that pops into mind: something needs doing; something he’s forgotten; something that’s worrying him. Round and round his mind goes, sifting up thoughts when he’s trying to quieten it down.

Until? He gets it. He’s lost count of the number of cups he’s gotten through, but the liquid in the cup looks like tea more than water now. He closes his eyes, takes a sip and...

There’s someone in the room when he opens them again, and it catches him by surprise. The cup slips from his hand and hits the tabletop. It stays intact, but the liquid (Cool now? Odd.) spills. “Scheisse...”

But then he realises who’s there and he smiles. “Yeah, it has been a while. I disappeared for a bit, needed to work some stuff out. Nothing personal.” Then he grins. “I’ve not ripped reality to shreds so far today, so sure!” He turns to Sera and, this time, doesn’t grab her arms to stop her.

Serafíne

Sera is not natively a patient thing. Still, and listen: she watches Alexander as he meditates. She does not disturb him. She can see the pile of used tea leaves and hear the tick of the cooling water in the kettle and sense the depth of his concentration so she does in fact open the door to let Dan, carrying some supplies in. The consor gives her a lifted-brow sort of look and then takes the booze and some other necessities of a running household (toilet paper, soap, laundry detergent and the like) to be stowed around the upscale home that is theirs, collectively, as much as anyone's.

--

By the time Alexander comes to again, Sera has gotten herself a beer from the fridge though, uncapped it and taken a swig or seventeen, and his permission is both explicit and implicit so she hops down from the counter on which she has parked herself and crosses the room and wraps her arms around his neck, and hugs him. Simple. Genuine.

Her hair smells of the coming rain and burnt sugar and her breath smells like chocolate stout and her skin smells like sandalwood, and she hugs, squeezes once, then pulls back, letting him go yes, but only after giving him a good, solid, up-close look eye to eye and all that jazz.

He says he disappeared for a bit and Sera shrugs.

"Hawksley and I went to France for a big chunk of the summer, too. It's good to see you. What were you doing with the tea leaves?"

Alexander Brandt

Alexander returns the hug and his eyes close again, still riding on the sensations. Warm. Sugar. Rain. Sandalwood. How odd that he’d never really smelt them before. For his part, it’s mostly the odour of lemon shower gel and a faint smell of leather on his vest top. Simple.

He smiles again as they part and meet each other’s eyes. And maybe they’re not quite as carefree as they were those months ago in a newly opened Downtown nightclub.

He moves over to the counter to fetch something to mop up the spilled tea. “It’s good to see you too. Whereabouts in France did you go? And who is this Hawksley guy? I’ve heard his name a few times, but we don’t seem to have bumped into each other.” Which almost seems odd, given how often they pull others of their kind towards them.

“Oh, I asked Kalen about how he sees things, or maybe how he deals with what he sees. He said picked up a tea ceremony thing from Kharisma and he kinda told me how it works. So I thought I’d give it a try.” He shrugs before wiping the table down. “He did say I should probably find someone who can do it properly, though.” His voice pitches up a little towards the end, half-turning into a question. Alexander doesn’t really think it’s Sera’s thing, but you never know. Kharisma and Sera are the same tradition, and all that.

Serafíne

Sera hops back up on the kitchen counter, beside her beer, legs swinging and heels banging a bit against the lower cabinets. Her eyes are a dark color that can be difficult to read in certain lights, and with a window behind her and that light - perhaps gray, watery, storm-laced as it is - casting in a kind of shadow, the tone is uncertain. Still, the measure of her attention is not.

"Paris," Sera says with a neat little half-shrug. "Most of the time. The last few weeks we were at this fucking chateau out in the countryside somewhere. With a goddamned moat and an island in the moat and all'a that shit." Her smile is a sudden flash, all teeth. "It was fucking amazing.

"And Hawksley," here Sera's smile turns into something altogether different. Her mouth closes around the idea-of-Hawksley and she hums in the back of her throat. She regularly tells people that Hawksley is amazing and that they will adore him. Sometimes she is correct. As often: she is wrong, at least about the mutual adoration, you understand. "He's a Hermetic. Ravenclaw - you know? Lives in fucking Hogwarts and knows Egyptian and Latin and all'a that shit.

"French, too. He's cool. He's always reading, so maybe he knows about tea ceremonies, but I sure fucking don't.

"You wanna know how I deal with what I fucking see?"

Alexander Brandt

Alex’s attention is, for a short time, on the table as he sets the cup right and mops up the now-cold tea. He is listening, though. “It sounds nice. Not sure I’d really want to go there, though. Not Paris, anyway.” He shrugs. “Not that it’s likely on my pay cheque.” He looks up, part way through cleaning, to ask Sera, “Are you two a couple?” There’s nothing even remotely envious or jealous in his tone. He’s simply curious.

Ravenclaw. He glances up again at that, looking slightly confused. “Ravenclaw? Which one’s that?” The wet cloth gets dumped in the top of the cup and carried over to the sink. Alexander starts collecting the pot and other bits that he’s used, cleaning them away too. “I think it was more to do with the meditation than actually getting there. Working through the different sensations as a focus for getting there. At least I think that’s what he was talking about. It worked, either way.” Another shrug.

Again, with a smile, he continues. “I’d like to meet him some time. See how much Kalen really does buck the trend of Hermetics, if nothing else.” He thinks of the others he knows and... “Have you heard from Leonhard lately?”

He almost makes a joke about having a good idea how she copes until he turns and looks at her again. The booze and drugs seem to be tools more than crutches, after all. His voice is serious when he asks her, “How?”

Serafíne

Alexander is not sure he'd want to go to Paris, and Sera is breathing out, all-at-once, objecting to the idea that anyone would eschew that grand dame of cities, " - it is amazing. Seriously, it is everything everyone ever said about it, and then it is even better. It's a city that oughtta be immune to fucking paradox because I don't even see how you can be in a place like that during golden midsummer and not believe in magic. I mean she is grand, imposing, imperial, right? - "

A sharp breath out, then another needle-fine grin.

"And full of people - everywhere - enjoying the fuck out of everything she has to offer."

Then Alexander asks if they are a couple and Sera gives Alexander a glance that is both aware and something else. Deflective, perhaps. "We're friends." Sera supplies, with a degree of self-perception and a deep and abiding warmth, the intimacy of which suggests that they are also lovers. But Serafíne's moral sense is not remotely conventional and a couple, she breathes in around the idea, and breathes out around the idea, and does not like the phrase at all, even if -

"We're Hawksley and Sera."

--

No explanation for Ravenclaw yet. It'll keep, but really it is just Sera's little joke. Sera thinks of Hawksley's house these days as the small gods of the Hermetics because Dan was reading a Terry Pratchett book by the same name and wanted to write a song from the idea and that went nowhere, and Sera only reads poetry, no prose, so she didn't get it until she felt the hint of nostalgia in the back of her throat, until Dan reminded her about Etain in that old sandman comic. Until she thought about belief, and the failure of believe, and the world in which they live.

--

Well, Alexander's ideas are pretty good, yeah. Right? Sex and drugs and rock and roll. She gives him a little arch look when he almost makes that joke, all wry. But she moves past that, and smiles at him.

"I give myself time. I let myself feel. Grief. Disgust. Harrowing sorrow. Fucking exhaustion. Whatever. I let people in. The people who wanna come in. All that shit, man. And I remember all the awesome stuff I get to see, too. All the fucking amazing shit I get to feel, and do, and know, and live inside. Then there are the fucking everyday pleasures. I know a guy - Jim - he's all into yoga and this mindfulness meditation. Like where you remember to be in the moment, part of it, whole and also passing."

Alexander Brandt

Alexander turns on the tap over the sink, letting the cold water run over his hand until he feels is grow warmer. The cup and the pot get washed, rinsed, sat on the drainer to dry out. “I guess there are just other places that appeal more. Berlin, Zurich, Vienna.” Sera sees a shoulder rise in a shrug while he faces the sink. “Assuming I ever make it to Europe, anyway. I’ve not really, seriously thought about trying to make it there.”

We’re Hawksley and Sera. He’s turning back from the sink when she gives him that glance and her reply. He gives the edge of the sink a quick wipe and leans back against it, elbows bent, hands resting lightly on the surface. “Complicated, then.” It’s more statement than question, but seems to fit. Fit both Sera, and Sera and Hawksley.

Alexander goes quiet when Sera runs through her ways of dealing with stuff, walks over to the table and sits back in the chair he was using earlier. Leans against the backrest, snorts in what might pass for amusement. “People keep talking about the wonderous stuff we get to see and I know it’s there. You were there for that.” He does smile, thinking back to The Message again. Still curious where he went, what it’s been doing... The smile fades. “But I look at those of us who have been around for longest and I really can’t help thinking if there’s enough of it to make the price worth paying.” He waves a hand in front of him. “I get the whole we do it because we’re the only ones who can thing. At least until...” Until the body-less funeral that Kalen suggested was their typical end. But he shrugs again. “How do you feel those things when all you seem to have inside is ice?”

“Maybe I should take lessons from Jim, huh?”

Serafíne

"I don't know," the creature returns, quiet you understand, thoughtful now, with a supple threading of her narrow shoulders and a steady regard that feels quite the way she feels: instinctive, physical, immediate, intent, and somehow on-the-verge. All that contained inside her, and captured by the curve of a small smile that feels also: very very private. Some secret she holds to her skin because there is no other way to wear it. "It seems pretty simple to me."

Sera is still sitting on the counter, and she takes a sip of her beer, watching Alexander as he returns to his seat and cants her head, her gaze half-shadowed by her dark lashes. Sometimes she can read stranger's moods with little more than an indrawn breath, her senses are so close to the surface. She is: so aware, so immediate, so vibrant, right?

"Alexander, we can do amazing stuff every day. Hawksley can turn off gravity. I can talk to you telepathetically. Elijah and I found a kid who had been attacked by a complete weirdo and he was dying and I healed him, but fuck, you don't have to be me to do that shit.

"You can look and see the primal energy of the fucking universe! You can - maybe - find where everything is fracturing and fraying and starting to peel apart, or fucking listen to every heartbeat of every living thing close to you just by closing your eyes and exerting your goddamned will.

"I know the way you feel shapes the way you do magic, but you can do and feel so much - so much more than everyone and everything else. Have you played around with what's opened up for you? Do you know what you can do? Do you want me to show you what I do?"

Alexander Brandt

[Because I need to know if he fluffs it or not for what I'm writing - Sensing entropy - TN4, -1 for the node]

Dice: 1 d10 TN3 (2) ( fail )

Alexander Brandt

He crosses his hands on the table and rests his chin on top of them. “I don’t have a fucking clue about most of it. I can see Callisto out there.” There’s another brief, warm smile. “Although she doesn’t seem to have noticed me so much. Otherwise I don’t really know what to do with the other things I can feel. I can’t... turn off gravity, or heal, or shield. And, honestly, I still have no idea about how all this works. I just know that if I look at a mirror, or whatever, and want something to happen then – sometimes – it does.”

He sits back up against the back of the chair and fishes around in a pocket for a coin. If Sera’s paying attention, she might notice that it’s a two dollar coin with the head of Ulysses Grant on it – the same one as the last time he was sat here, trying to work stuff out. He sets it spinning on the table.

There’s the feeling of something happening, some Work being done. But it becomes unsteady, unstable, cracking and fracturing and dissipating into the ether as Alexander loses grap of what he’s trying to do, to see.

Alexander slaps a hand on the coin, stopping it from spinning, and rests his forehead back on the table with a dull thud. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I can get flashes of things that might happen, that things might break, but they are just flashes. I can’t see enough for them to be any use. Or I could probably get a job as a speaking clock somewhere?”

Serafíne

What does Sera feel?

Dice: 7 d10 TN5 (1, 1, 1, 1, 6, 8, 9, 10, 10, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 3

Serafíne

So she looks. (Prime 1. Dif 4 -1 for a specialty focus.)

Dice: 3 d10 TN3 (1, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

Serafíne

Sera's posture straightens, alert. Her palms are flat on the edge of the counter now, the beer bottle left at her side. Fingers curled beneath it. She is watching Alexander as he avers that he cannot do anything that she mentioned and he doesn't know what to do with the other pieces he has learned. And as she senses the supple thread of his Work rising around the spinning of the coin, she bites her inner cheek. No way for Alexander to see that, the brief contraction of her pupils from the sharpness of the pain that both pulls in her focus and allows her to free herself from the ordinary restrictions of reality.

To see.

Blood sluices with her saliva.

"Do it again," Sera tells him, and there is - oh, iron in her tone. She is slithering down from the counter, booted feet slapping against the linoleum and that intensity is matched by the light in her eyes. "Do it again, make it happen. It' s hard. You're barely awake, sometimes you have to reach out and grab reality and shape it. Bend it. Break it if you have to.

"Do it again. Use your will."

Alexander Brandt

[Sensing Entropy again. Same diff.

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

Alexander Brandt

There’s a muffled, amused snort from the table. “Well, what’s the worst that can happen, eh? I doubt I’ll be ripping a hole in the umbra or stopping time again anyway.” He looks up, resting his chin on the table instead of his forehead and reaches over to the coin. Holds it between thumb and forefinger on each hand and takes a breath. Concentrates on what he was trying to make happen with that first spin.

No, this time it isn’t what he’s trying to make happen. It’s what he damned well will happen. So Alexander sits up in the chair again, staring at the coin as he sets it spinning again.

That feeling gathers again, the promise of something happening. Something subtle changing in the room. In Alex. Until it starts to fray again, cracks working through the effect as it begins to shatter, almost shatters, almost has reality ready to slap back at the arrogant young apprentice who dares to force himself on the universe. But, this time, Alex fights back. This is something he wants to happen, and the universe can damned well fuck off and allow it to happen. There’s a moment – a frozen moment with a coin wobbling on its edge – before the effect comes back together and Alexander grunts as it does.

And he Sees. Faint lightning radiates off whatever he looks at as he catches glimpses, flashes in the storm, of what might be.

Serafíne

Sera - smiling, lovely Sera - makes an noise in the back of her throat, pleased, indulged even, though she is never precisely satiated and there is an edge to her smile and an edge to the gleam of her dark eyes and a pleasure to be found in that edge. She is sort of sidling towards him, watching the strands of his effect come together and fray apart, like heat lightning against the horizon and her senses are heightened enough and her awareness of the essential energy of the universe is sharp enough that that she always feels the exact moment when Alexander brings his will to bear.

Somehow, she has crossed the space between them. While he was working, while he was willing, while he was concentrating.

"If you want it to be stronger, you can do it again. Hold the energy inside you, wrap it up like a ball of lightning, feel it behind your breastbone, release it when you know it'll be enough to see you through." A ragged breath out. He is so lucky that she is almost sober. "Ritual helps for some. A structure, like a skeleton, that gives you a vessel through which you sense things or shape things, see?"

And she's standing in front of him them, surreal as she is, slight as she is, compelling as she is, holding her hands out to Alexander, palms up. The tattoos she has are absurd. She doesn't remember getting them. That hardly matters.

"Take my hands."

Alexander Brandt

He looks from the ball of lightning surrounding the cup on the drainer (filled, empty, cracked, chipped, smashed, dust, repaired...) to the storm around the chair (broken, bent, burned, shattered, ash, filled with people he doesn’t recognise...) and looks up at the flickers of possibility skittering across the ceiling (white, black, smoke-streaked, wooden, broken, holed...) He closes his eyes to black it all out for a moment when Sera asks for his hands.

So he opens his eyes and looks at her. (As she is now, covered in blood, happy, shot, bruised, broken, well, stabbed, old, harrowed, dead...) “Oh, jesus!” He closes his eyes again, quickly, and pushes the effect away and lets it dissolve again into the world. “I think I know why Kalen has trouble sleeping if that’s what he sees at night.” He slowly opens his eyes again, expecting the visions to be lingering. His shoulders sink after they hunched up in reaction to seeing her... Seeing her.

He shakes his head and reaches out to take her hands.

Serafíne

Mind 3. Difficulty 8. -1 (close to the node) -1 (resonance) -1 (focus)

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (3, 6, 7) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

Serafíne

And extending. Spending quint to keep the difficulty at 5.

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (6, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Serafíne

(That's enough, Sera you badass.)

Serafíne

He places his hands in her own, outstretched. She has slender hands, and rather long, fine fingers, but they are not soft, no: instead she has all her tattoos and also the hints of musician's callouses, different on each hand. Sera folds her fingers around Alexander's hands and then there is a pressure, a tug, a pull and even though she is now standing, well, rather close, it is also clear that she wants him -

to rise,

- and she is humming in the back of her throat, no, she is singing something, it is a tangible thread, it is both a sensation and a prayer for the same, and he cannot quite hear the words although perhaps him can feel them (I wish I had the voice of everything / To sing the animals to sing the earth / To sing the stars into the universe) the way you feel the sunlight against your skin.

She is pulling him upright. She is drawing him in.

And he can feel the power in her, building inside of her, wrapping itself through her skin, around her mind, holding itself in abeyance beneath her breastbone, beneath her skin. She is still singing - is he rising? - and her eyes are closed now, and her voice is low, husky, fine, and she is magic, you understand.

Made of it.

Made for it,

calling him to stand with her, to keep holding her hands.

Inviting him,

in.

Alexander Brandt

Her fingers slide over the hard, rough skin of Alexander’s hands as she changes her grip. These aren’t the soft, moisturised, manicured hands that several of the other Mages have. These are weathered and battered and scraped. A hard exterior for...

He feels the pull of her hands and of her will. He can’t tell what it is that she’s doing, only that it’s there and it’s powerful. Pulling. Calling. Drawing. He does rise, watching her, singing her song below the level of really hearing the words. Feeling them, rather. He stands, slowly.

He stands, but doesn’t close the distance between them. Whether that was her intention or not, he doesn’t know. He just remembers another voice. The voice that Sera couldn’t hear. So enticing, so appealing, so... hungry and desperate. Come closer. The voice that would have pushed him towards what probably would have been a very lonely end.

He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t push forwards towards Sera and her effect either. He stands frozen on the threshold between the two.

He looks at her closed eyes, like the newly-Awakened rabbit in her full-beam headlights, and whispers. “I’m scared.”

Serafíne

Of what. Sera's voice is in his mind. Her mouth is not moving, but she has opened her eyes and tipped her chin back so that she can look up at him. The edge of her mouth curved in a close-lipped, rather mournful little. Of this?

Don't be. Such conviction. So much light in her; and so much shadow all of it in equal gradiant measure. Come with me. I won't let anything happen to you.

Serafíne

(CHARISMA PLUS EXPRESSION: she means that.)

Dice: 8 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 6 ) Re-rolls: 2

Alexander Brandt

Sera’s voice is in his mind, and it’s so close. So intimate. To hear her thoughts, feel the conviction in what she tells him. To be that close to someone?

It’s glorious.

And it’s terrifying.

Alexander pulls his hands from hers, steps back, pulls away. “I can’t, not like that.” Something catches in his throat and he turns away. “I just... please, just don’t.” He walks towards the window overlooking the land to the back of the building and watches the storm clouds starting to pass overhead without, really, seeing them.

Serafíne

Paradox.

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

Serafíne

Stamina

Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 7) ( success x 1 )

Serafíne

Alexander refuses the connection. The truth is he cannot resist it: he doesn't know how: how to protect himself from such instrusions, how to begin to sense their shape or shadow in the world, how to do anything except terrify himself with his own perceptions of decay on the edge of a spinning coin, and she could stay there as long as she wanted, she could fold herself into his consciousness, and skim through his drifting thoughts, she could tread, heavily or lightly, through every one of his dreams, she could wrap him in an illusory world, ecstatic or terrifying. She could hurt him.

All he do to refuse the connection is to say no,

but he can say no,

and no is something that Sera respects. It is both a withdrawal and a recoiling and there is the withdrawal of that open mind, that impossible connection, and within that withdrawl is a sense of snap-back, and that rejection, that refusal of the world and Sera is pulling in a single sharpened breath and her magic lives in her body, you understand, immediate and raw, physical, visceral and she feels Alexander's refusal as much as anything else. Pulls back into herself with a physical sob that she tries to hold back, to swallow, to absorb, squares her shoulders against the raw sensation of his refusal, and the impending back-blow of reality.

The song ends as abruptly as the Willwork unravels and - wait for it, wait for it - there it is, the brief burst of pain that spreads, dull and throbbing, from the bridge of her nose across the span of her sinuses. The thin trickle of blood from her left nostril.

She is shaking a little bit, Sera. She'd have to be.

All or nothing, that is how she Works.

"I'm sorry - " This, once she has caught a shaky breath. "I didn't - I'm gonna, I'm gonna go."

Alexander Brandt

He doesn’t know how to resist. Doesn’t know that she could pick and probe and dig out what made him try to pull back from what Sera was doing. He assumes that the hands are the bridge between them, that pulling away will break the connection and keep himself safe.

That first reaction, the fear of being so damned close to someone... That was instinct, as much as landing Sera on her ass in the middle of a crowded market was. It was a defence, only not against the physical. The wounds that that reaction is protecting are deeper and harder to see. She could so easily dig them out if she wanted to...

But then if she did, and Alexander ever found out, then he’d never trust her again. And, right now, he needs people he can trust to help him figure this stuff out. Help him see the wonder when all he can see is the darkness.

He winces when he feels reality backslap Sera for her Work, but he doesn’t turn back to look at her. Doesn’t turn at her sob. And it’s not because he doesn’t care. He just hurts.

I'm sorry - I didn't - I'm gonna, I'm gonna go. He did feel her conviction when she said I won't let anything happen to you. Knows that she didn’t want – even expect – his reaction. He really does want to feel the wonder she promised, but...

He takes a shuddering breath and half-turns his head to her. “Wait. Thank you. For trying.” His gaze returns to the window, watching the trails of raindrops that are starting to appear on the glass. And quieter, which she may or may not hear as she does or doesn’t move to leave, “Don’t give up on me. Please.”

Serafíne

Dan's been around, downstairs at the bar. Restocking the bathrooms, checking the date the filter was last changed in the furnace. All the goddamned ordinary things that have to happen in an ordinary house to make it run, and he knows Sera, knows Sera the way he knows his own heart, the knows the shape of a guitar in his hand, the way he knows Plato, the way he knows everything. He sure-as-hell knows the feel of her magic in the air. Staring out the window as he is, Alexander won't see Dan enter, but Dan is not a fucking ninja. He's a tall, lanky guy and he has a wallet chain, he makes noise, he makes noise as he enters the kitchen and he goes to Sera, of course he does, and he goes to Sera and he kisses her on the crown of her head and wraps a long, loose arm around her shoulders and murmurs,

"Head back," quietly into her ear when he sees the bit of blood trickling down her face, feels the reflected ache of both the powerful spell quickly drawn back and the connection, well, refused, that leaves her so raw, and she doesn't mind feeling raw, you have to feel raw, too, but that doesn't mean she can reassure Alexander, now. That doesn't mean she can trust her voice to work the way voices work.

And Dan has no idea what the fuck just happened, he just walked into the room and there's Alexander staring out the window and Sera looking a little bit wounded and a little bit bloodied and a little bit like she started bleeding light through her skin and then reversed course and was naturally singed in the process. "She won't give up on you," Dan has a baritone, it is rich, rumbly in his chest because he was up too early this morning or too late last night, "and I don't know what you're going through, and I sure as hell am not gonna judge, but you gotta do some of the work too. Cool?

"I'm gonna take her home. You gonna be okay?"

Alexander Brandt

Cool? Alexander doesn’t turn back to Dan, wouldn’t trust himself not to fall apart if he did and really saw the effect what just happened had on Sera. So he nods.

You gonna be ok? He takes a deep breath, less shuddering than the last, and nods again. “I’ll be... fine.”

And he won’t turn as Dan and Sera head home, not until he feels her resonance fade into the storm outside. But, eventually, he turns and leaves the house himself. Heads out and rides through the rain, too fast to be strictly safe. And he rides, and miles and of road pass under him.

And he’s alone again.

Which could be the most frightening part of all.

Serafíne

Dan watches Alexander, mouth still, a little bit pursed. He isn't as insightful as Serafíne herself but Sera is a little too raw to allow herself to feel the edge of Alexander's despair. Not just now.

So there is a moment like hang time and then Dan nods, you see, "Alright," his chin moves against the crown of Sera's head, beard getting tangled with her curls. "Text later, man. Let us know you're okay."

I'm like a fucking teddy bear. [Paused]

Kalen Holliday

[How awake are we?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN7 (1, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Alexander Brandt

[Meh, Awareness, it might tweak what I write.]

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

Kalen Holliday

[Oh. Yes. How distracted are we by Resonance?]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 4, 4, 6, 6, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )

Alexander Brandt

The early evening sun is still well above the peaks of the mountains to the west, but its effect on the temperature is starting to wane after the heat of the day. Small white clouds drift leisurely overhead, and a light breeze passes through. There’s no sign at the moment of rain, but there is always the possibility in Denver. The city is always changing, always adapting.

The imminent arrival of a certain storm is guaranteed, though. There had been talk, between the members of their little cabal, of training. Learning to work together; to fight together. Without any current crisis hitting the city – or, at least, none involving Alexander or Kalen – they’ve made plans to take advantage of the time they have to practice. Alex’s bike is parked on the other side of the nondescript warehouse building, helmet hanging from one of the handlebars. He’s walked around the buildings, looking for a good spot to spar, and settled on an area of flat grass. The remote location and, even if there had been anybody who happened to be taking their dog out for a walk, the fence keep anybody who might interfere or get in the way safely away.

So here he is, dressed in loose, black jogging bottoms, vest, and nothing on his feet. He’s currently sat on the grass, legs extended, stretching. There’s a full rucksack lying against the wall of the warehouse. Otherwise, it’s quiet. For the moment.

Kalen Holliday

Kalen is not stretching. Whether that is more of a not yet or a not anymore is not the most certain. He met Alexander outside, where he had a bag and a handful of water bottles. He's barefoot, in a pair of loose-fitting grey silk pants with just a hint of a shimmer and a white tee-shirt. Even having rested, he's still ghost-pale. Kalen is naturally pale, though it looks healthier with only the very faintest traces of shadows beneath those eyes.

He smiles when he sees Alexander, a real smile. Because Kalen loves very few things as much as he loves doing things. And he gets to spar. And he gets to do magic.

It is the magic that he settles across from Alexander to do, kneeling so that he is facing Alexander and closing his eyes. The thing about most sparring is that you have to be so gentle or you have to use padding or you have to end up with bruises you might not be able to afford to have in the morning. The thing about being able to bend Creation to your will is that you can not have to deal with any of those things.

So he settles across from Alexander and he breathes in frost until despite the warmth of the sun on his skin all he can taste is winter. He breathes in the taste of frost and he finds Alexander's breath and then the sun on Alexander's skin and then with the faintest of smiles he lets power spread out over him like frost spreads out over a windowpane, all intricate swirling tendrils until the whole of the glass is opaque.

[Force Sheild| Forces 2/Life 1 D=4 [3standard+2highest sphere-1taking time] WP -- Target 6 suxx [1 target/1 effect/1 duration/3 shield] will extend]

Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (1, 2) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Kalen Holliday

[And, extend, D+1 for extend/WP because reality really loves to hate on this particular spell]

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (2, 10) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Kalen Holliday

[And again - hopefully God will love us....]

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (3, 10) ( success x 1 )

Kalen Holliday

[Okay...come on magic!]

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (1, 4) ( fail )

Kalen Holliday

[Bad magic. WP to not lose one effect]

Kalen Holliday

[One more time - D=6-2Q=4 WP]

Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (2, 4) ( success x 2 ) [WP]

Alexander Brandt

[Because we're watching, even if we don't have a clue what it is you're doing...]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 7, 9, 10) ( success x 3 )

Kalen Holliday

[Annnd, because Kalen also likes not dying - same trick, one less suxx because he doesn't need to target himself. D=4 for the first roll.]

Dice: 2 d10 TN4 (3, 6) ( success x 1 )

Kalen Holliday

[Now 5]

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (6, 9) ( success x 2 )

Kalen Holliday

[Still 5]

Dice: 2 d10 TN5 (5, 8) ( success x 2 )

Kalen Holliday

[Done!!!]

Alexander Brandt

Kalen smiles at Alexander, and the smile is returned. “Hey. Going to try to get even for me throwing you on your ass before?” He’s remembering a time in a park where an ill-advised hug turned into a short flight over a park bench. Although also not the first time that he’s thrown one of the city’s awakened before realising what was going on. And probably not the last either.

As Kalen sits and starts working his effect, Alex leans back on his hands and watches. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, it’s magic that he hasn’t even begun to understand, but he feels the work itself. The pushing of reality just a little to make things different somehow. What those things are, though... Instead he watches Kalen as he pushes. Feels something slip before it’s put right and the loose ends tied up. Watches him breathe.

“Should I ask..?”

Kalen Holliday

"About how easily unnerved by the sense of ice I am?" Kalen smiles faintly. "I would think you'd know. About it costing more to Work with something you are so uneasy with?" The smile widens. "I would assume you are not blind. About what I just did?" The smile is a real grin now, for all that Effect took something out of him. "Let's just say I don't like to worry too much about being terribly gentle. Reasonably so, perhaps. But I don't think either of us is lacking control."

He rises, then extends a hand to Alexander. "Come. You'll see."

Alexander Brandt

“I knew about the water, but ice too? You must love it when Eleanor’s around, then.” The one meeting wasn’t enough to form too much of an opinion on the woman - beyond her maintaining a certain objective distance – but the memory of her resonance, the feeling of drowning under ice, is hard to forget.

Alexander takes the hand and uses it to pull himself up. “Yeah, about what you were just doing. I could tell something was happening, but couldn’t even begin to guess what.” He shrugs, smiling, content to wait and to see.

He takes a few steps across the grass and turns to face Kalen. “So when was the last time you practiced like this?”

Kalen Holliday

"Eleanor fucking terrifies me." He smiles. "She's good to have with you when you go fight the minions of an evil Umbrood spirit in their lair, though." And so was Sid, though he doesn't mention Sid. Not now. He is, even with some of his weight back, lightly built. He has to brace for Alexander's weight, but he does so easily enough.

"Oh, since I was actually physically imposing. So...two years, give or take."

Alexander Brandt

“Her, or the way she feels? What’s she like?” When you’re not accusing people of thinking you’re Union, or in the middle of melting down after some particularly bad weird shit. She did, after all, seem to want to offer some kind of help. Maybe he should look her up some time...

But not now. Now, Alex settles back into a comfortable stance. One leg in front of the other, back foot pointing to the side, knees bent. “I’m not sure I can see you as physically imposing. But maybe I just haven’t seen you in the right setting.” He shrugs, then grins. “Think you can remember your hands from your feet.”

Kalen Holliday

"Terrifying. But, that can be a good thing when she's killing monsters with you." There is a certain undercurrent of playfulness to that, as Kalen takes a few quick steps back.

"I'm hoping to keep up for perhaps a minute, but I do know how woefully out of practice I am. I'd started training a little, but then, you know, Mindscape. I rather expect you're going to get entirely the wrong idea about how scary the Flambeau are." He does not fall into anything that looks like a proper martial arts stance. Just relaxed, arms up. But then, Kalen never really took much in the way of formal training in this regard. "I was, in a life before this one, in much better shape."

He starts to circle. The movements are unhurried. Relaxed. He is still smiling but his eyes are wary, tracking Alexander's hips and shoulders now, instead of watching his face.

Alexander Brandt

“Do we all turn into terrifying people in the end?” Alexander turns to watch Kalen, equally unhurried but his smile fading. Whether that’s from concentration or something else... His arms come up, hands relaxed.

“Well, given how much time you’ve taken on this poor, squishy newcomer I think it’s only fair that I help you blow off some of that rust. How are you with a gun?”

Kalen Holliday

[Dex+Brawl (try not to laugh too hard here, posting the roll first so I can tailor the post)]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 5) ( fail )

Kalen Holliday

Kalen laughs, although his eyes keep watching. "Oh, come, Alce. I'm like a fucking teddy bear."

And of course, of course he comes forward then. But he has been out of this a long time. He's no judge of distance anymore. Or timing. He's lost track of things that used to be reflexive. His strike skims the edge of Alexander's space, but even if Alexander doesn't move it doesn't connect.

There is a second, when he's already moving when he realizes, there is a little tug of his eyebrows toward the center and a softly muttered curse.

Alexander Brandt

[Dex+Brawl. G'wan dice roller, botch on me now...]

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

Alexander Brandt

[Damage? Str(3) + 5 succs past the first -3 for the shield?]

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

Alexander Brandt

[Theoretical damage, anyway - pulling punches as they're sparring.]

Kalen Holliday

[And, because this is bashing - theoretical soak. Which is Stamina D=6]

Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (8, 9) ( success x 2 )

Alexander Brandt

“Yeah, a teddy bear that can stop time and throw lightning.”

Alexander leans back a little as Kalen takes his swing, watching as he falls short. He follows Kalen’s swing with one of his own, before the other man settles back into his guard position. Possibly a little unfairly, given how out of practice Kalen appears to be. But, then, it’s one way of learning. Quite literally through hard knocks.

He seems to catch Kalen unawares and swings an almost-perfect hook at him, pulling the punch at the last moment when he realises that Kalen isn’t ready. But Alexander’s fist meets Kalen’s shield and it starts to feel like pushing through water – the energy from the movement is drained off, but not completely. He catches Kalen on the cheek, but not hard enough to actually hurt him.

“Ok, you weren’t kidding, were you. Come at me again.”

Kalen Holliday

[Do we do any better this time?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 3) ( fail )

Kalen Holliday

Alexander taps his face, and Kalen's smile doesn't vanish.

It fucking brightens.

"Ohhhhhhhh...I can't stop time." Pause. Breath. He tries to evaluate a proper distance this time. "You know," he says lightly. "Yet. The lightning I can do."

He starts forward, but he put Alexander into his path this time, tries to sidestep, and ends up sprawled over the ground.

Alexander Brandt

“Stopping time? Been there, done that...” Alexander gives a weak smile. It really was intended as a joke, but it wasn’t the best day of his life. The smile fades completely as he thinks about the truck tyre...

He shakes his head, bringing his thoughts back to the present. Just in time to watch Kalen trip over his own feet and land on the ground. He coughs, trying to suppress the laugh that’s threatening to escape. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he smiles, bending over to help Kalen to his feet.

Once Kalen is up, Alexander clears his throat although the smile is still there. “Stop rushing it, I’m not going anywhere. Just take a breath, take your time, then try again.”

Kalen Holliday

[Okay. This time?]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (1, 4, 10, 10) ( success x 2 )

Kalen Holliday

Kalen is laughing when Alexander pulls him up, although his eyes are more serious. "Fuck. This was much easier before I started landing under buildings and falling into comas." Under all that playfulness, he's a little unnerved. There was a time when he was terrifying. Of course, he was sparring daily with Marcellus then. In addition to training with a handful of others less frequently. He expected to be off. He had not expected to be this off.

He's spent two years relying on guns and magic to survive. Mostly magic. He can manipulate probability and he can make himself practically bulletproof and he can command electricity and fire. He cannot manage to consistently hit a non-moving target with his hand.

Two years ago, that was easy.

He takes another breath and then comes at Alexander again. A touch more slowly. And this time he get the distance right.

Alexander Brandt

“If you could do it once, you can do it again. I’m more than happy to help you practice, if you like. See if Grace wants to join in too. Just imagine yourself as Eleanor with a big stick, if it helps. Or get a big stick, if you think that would be better. Or maybe Alyssa in a bad mood. Why did she take a swing at you before, anyway?”

Alexander takes a step back and faces up to Kalen again. “Try to stay on your feet.”

[Leg sweep. Dex/Brawl, +1 diff]

Dice: 6 d10 TN7 (4, 5, 6, 6, 7, 8) ( success x 2 )

Kalen Holliday

[Dex+Ath]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 3, 4, 10) ( success x 1 )

Kalen Holliday

Why did Alyssa take a swing at him? Kalen's smile actually widens a little at the memory of Basil. Of the Carnevale. Of warmth flooding over winter.

"Technically, she was taking a swing at someone else. There was a crowd. There were other Magi there. They...were playing a bit. Alyssa did not approve. Probably you would not either. I was...well...I was at least not in a mood to strongly protest. But I've been to places where there were similar Workings, if not quite the same and...." And those nights are a tangle of memories of the taste of strawberries and salt, of the warmth of people's skin, the lingering sense of their hair and their limbs against him. The weight of them. Their bodies and their dreams and their oceans of potential.

"I was concerned that if she hit him while we were in a crowd whose inhibitions were lowered the violence would spark off a riot. So I stepped between them. She never actually deliberately hit me.

"Well. She did throw something at me. A shoe, I think. Right after the whole coma thing. She was a little irate about that. And that whole my being a terrible friend thing. I really am kind of terrible at that. Ah. Sorry."

Stay on his feet. He's too slow, really. He isn't too slow in the end because Alexander can connect, but there is no real force left in the strike. There is a second where his eyes widen but then the Effect bleeds the force out of Alexander's sweep and he does, in the end, stay on his feet.

Paused

Mechanical gladiatorial combat would be the best!

Alexander Brandt

[Should probably check that he doesn't end up as roadkill - wits/drive]

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

Alexander Brandt

Alex was the slower to leave the coffee-and-pie place on Colfax. The reason for the rucksack was that biking armour, although very good protection, is very hot when there isn’t a lot of air moving past. Even with Kevlar rather than leather. So it had taken him a short while to get changed back into it all for the ride out to two freshly-painted boxes in the middle of nowhere.

The ride, though? That was somewhat quicker than Kalen’s drive over. There may have been a flash of blue in his mirrors as he worked his car through the city traffic but Alex hadn’t been nearly so patient. The speed limit inside the city limits was, mostly, obeyed. But streams of traffic still leaves a lot of space for a small, fast bike to weave through. He may have come a little closer to things than the occupants would have liked, or Alex not so long ago, but that’s all part of the thrill that he chases more than before. The irate drivers can’t see, but there’s a wide smile on his face as he calmly makes his way.

Outside of the city? The brakes come off and the bike streaks along the highway, the backroads, and finally up to the gates and fence surrounding their destination. Which shows the flaw in getting here so quickly – Alexander can’t get in. So he leans the bike on its stand, takes off his helmet and jacket, then sits at the side of the road. It’s not a bad day to be sat in the sun.

Kalen Holliday

Kalen pulls up a bit after Alexander, he is not in any particular hurry and this car is not a car that begs to be driven at speeds. He has had those cars. He's considering the wisdom of getting one again. Legally. (He is concerned that may take some of the edge off the thrill, though.)

He steps out of his car, gathers up the messenger bag with his laptop and the slices of pie, and smiles. "Let's introduce you to our mechanical guard dog. She isn't self-aware yet, but perhaps one day."

Kalen is smiling as he leads Alexander over to the keypad to the office building that until recently had been sitting unused, doors hung with rusting padlocks. Now there are new doors, a handprint scanner, a small flock of sleek cameras. He taps at the keypad, lets it scan his hand, and taps at it some more. Then his smile widens into a grin.

"There. She would like to see your hand, Alce. If you would." He waves at the scanner.

Alexander Brandt

Alexander pushes up from the ground as Kalen drives up, hefting the rucksack up and onto a shoulder again. He watches as Kalen rests his hand against the panel, then looks away discreetly as he taps at the keypad. He looks back when Kalen wants his hand.

“She? How do you know it isn’t more of a he? Either hand?” Unless there’s a specific one needed, he holds his left hand against the scanner. “This isn’t going to hurt, is it?”

Kalen Holliday

"No. She just wants to see you. We might get more complicated later, take blood for life magic scans or something, but for now, this seems to work. She'll take either hand.

"And I don't know. I called her it for awhile, but now she. I'm not exactly even sure when that started."

The scanner does not bite. Only scans. Kalen taps another button and then smiles. "And she would like you to give her a six to ten digit entry code. Then you're BFFs or something." His eyes flash a little. "Or, more accurately, then you can get in here whenever you want. Grace and I are here a lot, but not always."

Alexander Brandt

“Does she have a name?” Alex thinks for a bit, trying to come up with a number he’s going to remember. At least there’s no need for mixed case, numbers, special characters, hieroglyphs... He turns to put himself between Kalen and the keypad as he types it in.

“Who else comes here?”

Grace Evans

[Perception + Awareness = sensing people!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 7, 8, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen Holliday

"Sid can, I got her access right before we got pulled into crazy alternate world adventures. Gallowglass once in awhile. I train Elijah here. It's meant to be shared, but it's also meant to be a little more impressive." Kalen smiles. "It's a long term project. Right now, mostly just Grace and I are here. I haven't introduced Alyssa to the system but she will be."

"And she doesn't have a name yet. If we ever get wake her up, then we'll name her. Before then, not so much. Or if we get her a voice. If she has a voice she might need a name."

"I wanted to do this project apart from the chantry. Because I wanted it to be its own thing. If it belonged to the chantry...I want very specific things here, with this. And there are people who...." For a few seconds the smile fades. "Denver is kind to her Orphans. But introduce the wrong few powerful Magi here and that could change. I wanted to be sure we were safe from that as we could be."

Grace Evans

Grace is here, and her essence infuses the place anyway, whether she's here or not. This time, though, the source is present -- shifting, sharp, and fresh.

And she, wrapped up in the silence of the office when no one is present, suddenly looks up from the screen. The oncoming storm of Kalen she knows so very well. The other is harder to place, fainter -- like the crispness at the top of the mountain.

Huh. Visitors.

She shifts out of her chair and goes to make coffee, because hey -- that sounds good. And the others might like some too, so make it in the big French press, yeah?

Alexander Brandt

“Gallowglass? Is he new to the city too?” There’s a niggling feeling that the name’s familiar somewhere, but more that it was read somewhere, heard somewhere... “I met Elijah while you were.. sleeping. He seems nice. I think we’re supposed to find lunch some time.”

He looks at the keypad and cocks his head to one side. “If she does wake up, shouldn’t she get to decide what she’s called?”

He turns back to Kalen. “So this place isn’t trying to replace the library at The House, then. I know some people don’t think very much of us, but is it common for us to be pushed away?” Us. Orphans.

He waves towards the door. “After you, you know the way. I wouldn’t want to fall down any trapdoors or set off any rolling rock traps.”

Kalen Holliday

"He spends a lot of time in his bookshop. Well, his aunt's bookshop. He's...an old friend. One of the very few I have." Kalen frowns a little. It is difficult to explain his relationship to Gallowglass. He settles for not even trying.

"Occasionally. It isn't precisely because you're Orphans exactly sometimes. But...having been accepted into a Tradition means that to some degree, you've already been checked out. You've been trained. It serves as a kind of reference. Knowledge will grant you power and granting access is opening up vulnerabilities. There are few of us left, few strongholds. We...can be mistrustful and too willing to close doors we should be opening.

"This is meant to be better than that. It will take some doing. But I hope we can really get it to work."

He laughs and starts into the building. "No traps, Alce. The cats live here."

Grace Evans

The cats live here. And there is a cat watching Grace make coffee in that rather intense way that cats have at staring a person down.

"Pomegranate, you have seen this in action about a thousand and fifty times by now. For the last time, coffee is not food. You wouldn't be interested, I guarantee it," Grace says, her voice carrying in the silence as she argues with a (lithe, graceful) Bengal cat.

Pomegranate meows as though something precious is being denied. Obviously nothing in the world matters as much as coffee. Or maybe it's just that along with coffee usually comes cream, and the cat anticipates that. It's probably the latter.

Alexander Brandt

Alexander follows Kalen into the building, staying quiet for the most part. He looks around, along the corridors and at the doors. Thinking.

Wasn’t there a business card somewhere at home from a book shop? He must have picked it up from somewhere... Alex shrugs, something to worry about another time.

Kalen talks about being checked out and references. Again, it brings back memories of a conversation not so long ago. Not one intended to bring comfort, but to explain the what and the why. He’s gotten angry then, but maybe more because he’d been looking for things to get angry about. It still doesn’t make a lot of sense that people were being brought into the community without much in the way of checking, but that just seems to be the way things are. He’s still undecided about the whole Ginger thing. There’s another shrug, something else to worry about later.

Mind returning to the present, he says, “I didn’t know you liked cats.”

Kalen Holliday

"I was great friends with a cat once, as much as cats have friends. As much as I could have friends at the time. We had an understanding, at least. She was a very impressive cat.

"These cats are spoiled. They aren't like her."

He steps into the kitchen, smiles a little. "Hey, Kit. Alexander is here. You want tea?" And then he remembers the thing Alexander said and his head cocks to one side and he regards her with a kind of serious wonder. "If we do wake up the security system, will we need to name her, or will she be able to do that for herself when she wakes up?"

Grace Evans

Ahh, Kalen. He of the cryptic and yet interesting questions. "Huh. Well, the Message was able to give itself a name, wasn't it? Maybe it would be something like that. Something we would never think of, because we aren't security systems?"

She gestures toward the French press, already in its brewing. "Was making us some coffee already. Tea's good too though, we can always do both."

Alex, so that explains the chill. The last time they talked, well... It could have gone better.

Alexander Brandt

Grace. The other reason why Alexander had been a little quiet walking through the office. Their last meeting hadn’t gone all that well. The messages she’d sent after had been supportive – probably more than he’d felt he’d deserved. But this is the first time that they’d actually met since. It’ll probably go better than last time. Probably.

So he sets his rucksack against the wall just outside the kitchen and stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Hey Grace.” He watches her, waiting to see how she responds.

Kalen Holliday

Kalen glances between the two of them for a second. "Well," he says after a few seconds. "Thank god I was already planning to make tea."

He pulls out a sturdy but well worn red lacquered box, bound closed with leather straps. "Do try not to fight. The cats and I might go cry in our rooms or something. We're very delicate you know." As he unbuckles the straps holding the box closed he glances at Grace. "Could you set the kettle?"

And then he glances over at Alexander. "You can come in, Alce," he says, probably a bit more gently than either Grace or Alexander is expecting. "It's alright. She shows her teeth sometimes, this one, but she's alright." And that tone is all fondness. Kalen adores Grace. Largely because she'll show off her teeth on occasion.

Grace Evans

Grace nods and refills the kettle and snorts when he mentions how delicate he and the cats are. "I'm not even going to fight you over tea. I don't think I could stand to see you cry."

When Kalen says that she shows off her teeth sometimes, Grace turns towards Alex and.. literally shows off her teeth.

Yeah, Alex, it's going to be one of those kinds of days. Obviously Grace is less than upset at him over what happened. Larger, more earthshattering things have occurred between now and then. Large enough to remind one that someone being angry at her is such small stuff.

"Hi Alex."

Alexander Brandt

Alexander does move into the kitchen, a little way at least, and leans against a worktop. The arms uncross and hand rest on the edge of the worktop. The floor is, apparently, quite interesting for a few moments.

“Sorry.” He looks up at Grace. “You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was looking for a fight, and you and Eleanor fed me just enough fuel to blow up.” He shrugs a shoulder. “You’re looking well, though. I hope you’re doing ok, after...” He knows that Grace had followed Kalen and the others in to the AI’s world after bumping into Elijah at the hospital. He had a good idea of what Kalen had been through, but none whatsoever about Grace, Patience and Lena. And he hadn’t seen anything of Sid since she vanished from the hospital.

He looks to Kalen and his red box, watching what the man does with it.

Kalen Holliday

Kalen starts taking things out of the box. A small, very plain purplish-red teapot. A collection of small clay tea cups with no handles, gazed only on the outside. A small wooden box that is filled with tea wrapped in paper envelopes, some with writing on them, a few sealed with wax or tied with colored ribbon.

"Kharisma does this with the whole tea ceremony. She even taught me some of that, but I am not graceful as all that. And I don't have a place prepared. Considering, I probably should. There is space here. We could have a little tea library. Maybe some koi." He smiles a little. "Right now, we'll do an incredibly abbreviated version of what Kharisma does. I don't imagine you'll want to incorporate a tea ceremony into your paradigm, and if you do, it shouldn't be me you learn it from.

"It is worth seeing though, if you ever run across her."

Grace Evans

"Kalen, only you would come up with the idea for a tea library with koi. I don't think I could digitize tea. Yet."

He's looking so put together today, isn't he? Maybe the nightmares are staying away for now, or maybe it's just a mask for the others' benefit. But some days, she knows he can't even bother with the masks. They're to heavy.

But then her attention shifts to Alex who is looking sheepish, apologizing.

"Hey, I understand. I didn't take it personal. You go through your first horrible magic shit and things go south, you can't really control that kind of reaction. It happens. I've been there."

Grace used to show her teeth a lot after Hydra -- snapping at people with the rawness of all those open wounds. Kalen knows. He was there.

Alexander Brandt

Alexander slowly relaxes, as it become obvious that the argument of that other night wasn’t about to restart, and pushes away from the counter to get a closer look at what Kalen’s unpacking.

He keeps talking to Grace, looking up at her as Kalen works. “I guess I was just too busy trying to hold it all together that I didn’t realise that I wasn’t. So, yeah.” He shrugs again. “I’ll try not to get too shouty again. I’m still not sure about the Ginger thing, though. I know what I do and how I feel made people think certain things about me. If I’m on there, would it stop people from taking part?”

His attention turns back to the table as the last of the wrapping comes away. “Is Kharisma still in the city? I’m surprised she hasn’t appeared, given how much the rest of us seem to attract each other. And,” he glances up at Grace again,” could you digitise koi?”

Kalen Holliday

"She and Jack...." Kalen pauses in his response, though he continues setting out the tea. He is not about to do a formal ceremony, but he does it in a manner that suggests a set order. And a familiarity.

"They are only where they are meant to be. Their concerns and ours are different. We are concerned with the city and the chantry. They are concerned with a much broader picture. They are based here, as much as anywhere, but neither of them can be in one place for long. They both have work on a global kind of scale. One day perhaps, we will have common goals, but that day has not yet come." He smiles. "They are sort of their own universe, those two. They have their own gravity."

"And I don't mean for you to digitize the tea. There should be some incentive to come here to our dead tree shrine. Or I will be lonely." He smiles for Grace, but then he looks back to Alexander.

"Your concern is admirable, Alce. But much like this place, Ginger is meant to be there for everyone who needs her. You are as much a part of this as any of us. You are no less valuable. And if we do any of the things we talked about, formally or informally, you'll either need Ginger or be aware enough of what happens on her it won't matter you aren't officially on the network."

Grace

Grace shrugs. "If it does, that's their business. I mean, if they think that both myself and Eleanor haven't taken enough precautions, they're probably paranoid enough to stay the hell away from Ginger to begin with. You're fine."

She watches Kalen work, and feels the sudden need to disturb the tea. To switch cups. To line them up and fill the tea at different heights and tap the teacups with a spoon. Rituals are so much more fun when they're broken.

Instead she laughs. "I don't know a thing about tea ceremonies. I will mess it up. You're so... precise about it, Kalen."

"And, will the T-Rex shrubbery and mechanical lion and awakened security system not be draw enough? I suppose we could add koi and a tea library. Though I will warn you I have accidentally killed every fish I ever kept."

Alexander Brandt

He shrugs again, as Grace says that it’s their business. That’s true, but if it stops people bringing up potentially dangerous weirdness in the city... Hey, at least he left a note on the Chantry fridge about the ghost and the green man. “You’ve probably been asked this by everyone else you’ve offered Ginger to, but what precautions are there? To stop the Union, or anyone else I guess, from listening in? Or if they manage to get hold of someone who has access and want a little word with them?”

Alex sits in a chair, hands under his thighs. He’s looking closer at the cups and the tea pot, curious about.. Well, about where this is going. “I’m not sure I see what this has to do with much of anything at the moment. Do you use this as a part of your way of working?” He’s not impatient and there’s definitely more curiosity in his voice than anything. He doesn’t quite get it.

He looks up again at Grace. “Wait, there’s a what in the shrubbery?”

Kalen Holliday

"No. I don't." There is a soft emphasis on the I. "It's just a focus thing. A meditation, of sorts. Kharisma does, she makes...potions is wrong word, because sometimes they are cupcakes or sandwiches or truffles...but she works with a lot of herbs and ingestible things. Generally, they are edible."

He smiles, "Still. I find it a useful enough mundane focus, even without her." He does not put tea leaves into the tiny pot, though they are right there. Instead he simply pours in hot water and sets the lid on the pot.

Grace

"First, it's located in a place unconnected to any of us. It's a phone sex line. The ones in charge of the line don't know that it's been hijacked. Second, Ginger does not call us. We call Ginger. That's important, because if Ginger were to send us messages, and someone were to gain control of the server, all they'd have to do to pinpoint us is follow that trail. There is no trail the way Ginger's set up. Third, it's all encrypted using my own software, so you'd need my code on your device to be able to read the messages.

But you are right about the point of weakness being in the users of the system. If someone were captured and had a gun to their head and were told to open up the message stores, there's nothing exactly stopping that. Ginger is not perfectly safe. It's just safer."

Ahh, the spiel on safety. She's said it so often, you might think that she's gone and memorized that speech. But no, she takes this seriously. Or at least as seriously as Kalen is taking his tea.

"Are we drinking water, Kalen?" she says, and then turns back to Alex. "And yes, a T-Rex. Fighting a sabre-toothed tiger."

Alexander Brandt

Alexander nods as Kalen explains how he finds it helpful, and how Kharisma uses it as part of the way she works. He watches Kalen pour the water from the kettle as he talks. “I guess I can get that. I’ve never tried anything quite as... formal, I guess, as this. But I do get it as a way of getting your mind away from things. I’ve just always gone for getting physically away instead. The mountains are good listeners.” This last sentence is quieter than those before, with a certain fondness.

He looks back at Grace again, talking about Ginger. His eyebrows rise and there’s a smile on his lips as she explains the sex line part. “Why... How on earth did you come up with using a sex line for it? Not that it doesn’t sound... perfectly unconnected. I guess that all makes sense, though. If someone did manage to get access to the server, would they be able to track back anyone who dialled in after? And given where this is probably headed... what do you need for it?”

The smile makes a comeback and he shakes his head in amusement at the topiary. “I can’t honestly guess which of you came up with that idea. Show me later?”

Kalen Holliday

Kalen laughs. "This is so not formal. You're going to have see her do it." He notes that softened tone, and his eyes soften a touch, but he lets it go. "We have not, yet, found someone to sculpt this masterpiece for us. But we will...."

He's more focused now than at the diner. But still relaxed. He pours the water into cups. Grace gets one too. Because everyone needs water that tastes like clay and, more faintly, of tea. "So these tea pots draw in the tea, kind of like cast iron pans. And there is the taste of the clay and the taste of the tea, but this way you can taste the clay. You taste this one first, more clay than anything, and then, depending on how you want to focus and how much more you want tea than a meditative exercise, you either brew successive pots of tea with the same set of leaves, noting the way you notice different aspects of the flavors or you do things like brew a pot of tea with one leaf, and then a few leaves, and you sort of approach a full flavor from the beginning, rather than full to more subtle."

He smiles a little. "It sounds crazy. It's fucking awesome if you need to focus on something that isn't this. Ideally, you would do it in a prepared space and not while having the discussion we're having, but...such is life."

Grace

"It sounds like a rather long, drawn out way to drink tea," Grace says. "We should meditate on the awesomeness of tyrannosaurs. And how it and the sabre-toothed tiger managed to be alive together at the same time for their battle."

It is not, perhaps, the best topic of conversation for meditative stillness and calm focus, is it? But it makes Alex smile. It's been a while since she's seen that.

"See, that's the thing, Alex. We call the line, but so do lots of other people. Our access of the system is hidden among all those others. Normal people without my software call it, and they get the phone sex as usual. I didn't come up with the idea. That was all Gadfly, my partner in crime. He's... He's gone."

Gone, disappeared, dead, it's hard to say.

Alexander Brandt

With a glance at Kalen, Alexander takes one of the cups of water and takes a sip. There’s no expectation of and mind-shattering wisdom, no fruity aftertones or any of the other claptrap people who take wine too seriously come out with. It’s just water. That maybe tastes like it’s had a rock sat in it for a while. “I imagine there’s some deeply insightful statement about this, but I have no idea what it would be. I think I get the point, though.” He replaces the cup, taking a longer look at Kalen. “If Kharisma passes through and would be up for running through the full thing, would you let me know? I’d like to see it.” He wonders for a moment if this would be something Sera does too, but it just doesn’t quite seem her style.

He does smile again as Grace talks of fighting dinosaurs. It’s just too surreal to be skimming over a tea ceremony while talking about fighting dinosaurs. Or whatever a sabre-tooth tiger counts as. It fades a little as she explains the security around Ginger a little more. “Then I guess I should do what I should have done when you made the offer before and take you up on it. If me being on there does cause problems, I can always stop using it.”

The smile fades completely when she talks about Gadfly. Alexander asks, quietly, “What happened to him?” If she’s close enough and doesn’t pull away, he rests a hand on her arm for a moment before resting it back on the table.

Kalen Holliday

"It's a focus thing, really. I mean, that's what I use it for. There's a whole history for a proper tea ceremony, but I don't try for that. Sometimes...you just have to forget things for long enough to stay sane."

He watches the two of them, eyes more focused and a little less full of wonder. But he doesn't seem sad so much as serious.

Grace

Grace glances over to Kalen when he says how you have to forget. Sanity in the insane world is hard to come by, indeed.

"I'm not sure what happened to him," Grace says, and lifts her own cup of hot clay water to take a sip. Tastes like hot water with a hint of tea. And clay. "I know he was being targeted by a 'crat," she says, and looks down at the hand on her arm like it is a curiosity. "Mister Goodson. He kept on saying it was fine, that he was too good to get caught, and then one day he just stopped answering texts. Disappeared off the map. I don't know what exactly happened."

She doesn't know. But she can guess. Something like what happened to Khaled Abandonato perhaps?

"I'd be happy to set you up. You can read the recent history of supernatural craziness in Denver on there. It's interesting to just stroll through the archives sometimes."

Alexander Brandt

Sometimes...you just have to forget things for long enough to stay sane.

Alex picks up his cup, closes his eyes and takes another sip. “This... might not be a bad thing for me to try out more.” He opens his eyes again, watching Kalen. “At least as a way of trying to live with what this life will be showing me, anyway. Unless you have something, somewhere that I can kick the crap out of without worrying about upsetting the neighbours?” There is some humour in his voice, but some seriousness too. He can have a temper – it would probably be a good idea for him to find some way of working it out without shouting at or hurting anyone.

He holds the cup in the palm of a hand, feeling the residual warmth of the clay, as Grace talks about Gadfly. “Is there any way of finding him that wouldn’t put anyone at risk? I mean... I could try looking for him on the force’s systems, but I think that would just get someone in dark glasses stopping by for a bit of a chat.” He takes a breath as an idea hits. “Sera managed to look back at what happened to the Archmage and The Message. Would she be able to track him down from when you last saw him and find out what happened?”

Back to Ginger. “What do you need to set me up?”

Kalen Holliday

"Mmmmmmmm...there is a shooting range of sorts in the warehouse. And there is sparring, although I'd rather you not beat the hell out of me before I have the chance to master the fascinating art of healing at least myself." He takes a sip of his 'tea,' eyes drifting closed for a second as he does so and then he fixes his attention on Alexander again. "Granted, I can use the same trick I use to be bullet-proof to be mostly undamaged by anything you do. If you really hit hard enough, you might leave some bruises, but I would expect I'd be fine in the end."

He says this as though naturally everyone can just decide to be bullet-proof and this is an entirely unremarkable application of magical skill. Because of course they would, right? Why should that be of any more, or less, interest than any other way to twist the forces and truths that underpin the cosmos.

Grace

"I'll need your phone or your computer, or whatever you want it on. I have installed Ginger on an airship before. Not that you probably have one of those, but you know. As long as it has a microprocessor and the ability to make phone calls, we're good. And I'll need a few minutes.

"As for Gadfly... I hardly ever saw him, really. We did a lot of our work online, and he was always taking care to secure his connection, you know? So the Techs couldn't find him? I don't know where he lived, or anything. The trail just goes cold."

Grace sighs and looks down into her cup, the hot water and its barely-there flavor at least serves as something else to think about. So this is why the tea? She sips it.

Alexander Brandt

“Bullet-proof? I didn’t know that was a thing.” Alexander rubs his side absent-mindedly. “Is that something I could learn?” He half-smiles as he thinks of the small list of things that he wants to learn that’s steadily growing. “Or that you’d be happy to teach? Although there’s the mind shielding thing to learn too...” One trail that does run through most of what he’s interested in learning is that it’s all very practical. The only real exception to that so far, beyond the general “this is your life now, get ready to duck” talks he’s been getting, has been around spirit magic.

“Let me pick up a cheap pre-pay phone and I’ll give you a yell. It’s not that I don’t believe that you’ve put a lot of work into making it safe. I’d just feel safer using a phone that can’t be traced back to me.”

He watches Grace go quiet, almost regretting asking the questions that led to it. He smiles a little, asking, “How is it you guys haven’t made a robotic T-Rex and tiger and made them fight yet?” Meditation. Distraction. Both ways of moving the mind away from less pleasant subject. He hopes it works.

Kalen Holliday

"I could try to teach you. It...may be difficult, but if that proves to be the case there are others here who may be able to help you. I would certainly be happy to try."

His eyes widen, and then he grins. "Mechanical gladiatorial combat would be the best!" Slight pause. "As long as the machines aren't self-aware. That would be less awesome."

Grace

Grace nods at Alex when he mentions the bit about the pre-pay phone, and finishes her cup of barely-tea.

"We wouldn't make our gladiatorial robots self-aware. I don't even know how to do that. I can make robots though. We should make a robot. Fighting robots. With little targets. We can make them play laser tag!"

And this is what happens when Grace and Kalen get into the same room together and try to have a discussion, you see. Or at least Alex is seeing. Perhaps now he knows why the two of them practically live together here at the office.

Alexander Brandt

“Well, it can’t be any harder than trying to work it out on my own, can it?” Because let’s face it, he wouldn’t have the faintest idea of where to start. Which, when he realises it, will make him feel more fortunate than he could have been. At least he has people around happy to help him find his feet and grow. How other Orphans, without that support, even figure out where to start..?

“Do they need to do it themselves? Make them remote controlled. Or make them big enough to sit in and drive.” How the notional-topiary came about has become quite obvious. What got the two of them talking about dinosaurs in the first place less so, but who knows what tangents the conversations between Kalen and Grace could take.

Kalen Holliday

Kalen laughs. "Well...I'd have to teach a language I'm technically not really supposed to teach you unless you're going to join the Order and you would have to go with me on a few critical issues about the nature and creation of the universe that involve the Word of God and angels, but aside from those minor details, it's all just physics."

"Or...we could just play laser tag. It'd be good training for you." He gives Grace and then Alexander huge, excited eyes. "We could design traps -not horrible traps, just little traps - and obstacles and it could be awesome!" Any minute now...Kalen will be suggesting the Danger Room. Quick. Someone stop him.

Grace

Grace grins a bit when he says that he's not allowed to teach people Enochian. She didn't know that when he sat down and tried to teach her.

"I can find some laser tag equipment! That's a great idea! I mean the shooting range is great and all, but this would give us moving targets. It would be good training."

Grace is not going to argue him out of the Danger Room. This train is not stopping.

"We could get some dry ice for smoke and it would be awesome!"

Alexander Brandt

Alexander raises his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, you might not be the best of people to learn from. I don’t want to get you into trouble, and I think we’d have a bit of trouble matching up your view of God and angels with mine.” He smiles again when he asks, “Does any of this stuff come easy? Or do I need to start budgeting for therapy and a decent funeral now?”

“That... actually sounds fun! Something physical to hit would still be good, but I can definitely see that working. You could set it up for missions. Rescue someone without shooting the innocents, kinda thing.”

What train? The one that’s running with a full tank of fuel and the brakes off?

Kalen Holliday

"Oh, Alce," Kalen says, still grinning, voice an amused purr, eyes dead fucking serious. "You don't need to worry about the funeral at least. Considering...there isn't so often a body left to bury. We get eaten by things or-"

His first partner in crime, eyes wide, neither of their hands enough to stop the blood from her throat shoving him with all the strength she had left at the sound of approaching footsteps. They never got her body back.

"-we just vanish."

He finishes his drink. Presses a heap of leaves into the tea pot and pours hot water over them. Gently resets the lid.

"I think therapy might not hurt, but you'd need to find one of us. Their price might or might not involve money. I...never tried that, but there are any number of people who will you I'm a little broken." He shrugs. "I do what I do. I have what I have. And I remember things like tonight. It's enough.

"And it's totally why we need laser tag. Laser tag is definitely like therapy for the Awakened."

Grace

"There's a library at the Chantry, and there's always our library too. I mean, that's part of why we are doing this whole thing is to make this stuff come a bit easier for people. If you don't mind learning from books, it helps. I could try teaching you what I know of the physical side of things. My take is pretty mathy-sciency."

So, polar opposite to Kalen's, aside from the physics. Maybe that's why the Enochian didn't stick.

Kalen speaks of how people like them just vanish, and Grace wishes she had a bit of clay-water left to pour out for Gadfly, for Khaled, for the vanished.

But she perks up again when he brings up the laser tag again. "Oh, we'll have to keep the cats out of there. You know how much they love lasers. Ohh! They could be the 'innocents'. Made more difficult because you know they will chase the 'bullets'."

Alexander Brandt

“Yeah, that was.. meant to be a joke.” Not so much tumbleweed rolling down the road there as an entire funeral procession. “But, yeah, laser tag. That would be cool. With smoke. And cats. And remote controlled dinosaurs.”

He turns back to Grace, who is sticking to somewhat safer territory in the conversation, although there’s an almost resigned look on his face. “I’m not all that great at book learning. I was always better at the practical lessons.” He shrugs. “But we could give it a try. What’s the worst that could happen?”

A moment passes. “Best not answer that one.”

Kalen Holliday

"Ah," Kalen says softly. "Of course it was." He sounds faintly apologetic, but his mind is already on laser tag and cats trying to play laser tag and robotic t-rexes and he is actually not really staying there.

"Grace might be better for that. Once you understand how to work with the things, I can explain how I do what I do, and you should have enough understanding eventually that you can duplicate the effect, if not the exact method. It takes more than just the perception of forces, you need to be able to manipulate them, but you'll get there soon enough.

"Fuck. Have we explained Seekings? Ah. They're actually really awesome. Generally. Yeah. We might have to talk a bit about that." He runs a hand through his hair. "Maybe a little."

Grace

"I can't really manipulate them. Yet. But when I figure that out, I will totally split my laser beam into like 50 and bend them and the cats will love it."

Sometimes, we know, sanity involves forgetting about things for just long enough, doesn't it? Sometimes it involves lasers and cats and traps. We remember nights like this to stay sane. It helps.

They know so much -- remember so much. Like what it feels like when someone gets disappeared. What it feels like to walk away from hell and death and have to carry it with you. And so, they drink tea and engage in a surreal ceremony of remembrance and forgetfulness. It is at least one way to stay sane, in finding company with those who Know.

See it? Or live with what I see?

Kalen Holliday

[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 Holliday

Kalen 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 Brandt

Somewhere 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 Holliday

Kalen 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 Brandt

Alex’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 Holliday

Kalen 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 Brandt

Alex 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 Brandt

Alex 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 Holliday

Alexander 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 Brandt

Alex 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 Holliday

Kalen, 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 Brandt

There’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 Brandt

The 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 Brandt

Alex’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!]