My friends are terrorists

[Littleton] Emily did exactly as Chuck said: she warmed up the car. He'd find it running, with the heater on low (taking the chill off my toes [off my nose]) and with a faintly perturbed Orphan folded into the passenger seat. Messenger bag tucked behind her legs, book in her lap, hands folded on top. Her hair was a tumble of wind-touched curls, pulled over one shoulder and leaving the other (nearer him) bare.

It was quiet -- if the radio had been on, she'd shut it off -- and the thin thrum of her annoyance was fading, fleeting, softened by the time he got back to the car. Right behind her or not.

[Chuck Carmichael] And after a little while, Chuck appears and slips into the car and is thoroughly distracted from the buckling of his seat belt by that bared shoulder next to him. A hand comes up to brush over it briefly, the keyboard-calloused thumb giving a soft caress before it falls away.

His face is lightly flushed when he turns back towards the front of the car and puts it into gear. Of course his car is a manual transmission.

It's quiet for a long moment as he turns the car towards out, and then, when he gets to a point where he has to make a decision about which way to turn, he asks, "Are you coming to my place, or do you want to go home? Ash might be coming over later, but I'm pretty free until then. Will have to check whatever email Nate's sending me, but I'm not going to do anything about that with you there." Not until wards are up, but even then, it's more likely he'll go somewhere not his home just in case he leaves tracks. It would hardly do, leading someone with bad intent to his condo, where Riley lives just across the courtyard.

[Littleton] Her eyelashes kiss: eyes closed, just slightly, when the whorl of his thumbrpint drags along her skin. It's a pleasant thing, and it goes a long way toward loosing the remaining tension in her. It gives her pause, makes her reply to his question a little less ready (a little less smarting).

"I would like to come over," she says, and it's again ever-so-slightly shy. Not as flirting, no contractions. Self-conscious. Quicker now: "If that's alright. If you have work to do, for Nathan," she cannot keep the edge out of her tone, however she wanted to, "I can go home."

It's not that far. She could walk. Perhaps she should. But the car is in gear (the stage is set [the dice are cast]) and there's nothing to do but follow through now. Even if the evening had gotten sorely derailed from her earlier expectations, there were still good times to be had. It was difficult to stay irritated around Chuck (or with Chuck) for too long.

"I can throw together something for dinner, if you'd like." An obvious ploy to be taken back to his place. Work or not.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Alright, then."

So it's to his place that they go, and his hand in the small of her back as they go up the stairs and he lets them in once the distance has been closed and he's parked. Inside, shoes are taken off and he smirks. "I think you probably know my kitchen better than I do. But I went shopping for some stuff - I think the sales lady talked me into way more than I needed. It's all still in boxes in there."

And this is what she finds: a Kitchenaid stand mixer (the one with the big bowl and all the attachments), a Cuisnart food processor and hand mixer, a new microwave that doesn't look like he's had it since college, and a few other odds and ends - including an ice cream maker. Quite likely she hit her sales goal for the week on his one trip . . . and again, his shirt is unbottoned before he makes it out of sight. It's comfortable, the air between them.

"I have vegetables, too," he calls from his room.

[Littleton] If she walks closer to him than is strictly necessary, it can be blamed on his hand in the small of her back. Or on an upbringing that included ideas like escorted walks, or courting, in at least three or more cultural contexts. It could be forgiven, certainly, the little touch on his arm as they parted so he could let them into the flat. Or the quiet (hidden) smile in her sidelong look as she moved past him and toward the kitchen.

She casts a look over her shoulder as he disappears into his room, then Emily goes about side-stepping the over-large appliances and seeking out these fabled vegetables.

Somewhere in the cupboards and icebox she pulls together an unlikely collection of food stuffs. Chickpeas, spinach, tomato sauce, some old (questionable?) bread (toasted in the oven and broken into bits) -- these become a lightly spiced vegetarian medley with a Spanish heritage in hardly any time at all.

There will be rice or something to go with, or possibly a stir fried meat (chicken) folded in for the more carnivorous among them. (Clearly not keeping Lent [not giving that up at least]).

The appliances are where he'd left them when he emerges and Emily is working calmly in careful and precise movements. She's at home here, even if it's borrowed space (borrowed Faith).

[Ashley McGowen] Years ago, before Ashley was an apprentice, before a fateful day when she was thrown over the handlebars of her bicycle and a rock found its way through the side of her skull, there were two boys. The elder boy found that he had power first, and took it upon himself to teach the younger one, instructing him, goading him along until he woke up on a city street in a burst of flame and thunder. According to the elder boy (who she would befriend - more than befriend - later in life), he still remembers the look on his friend's face when he summoned that fire, and he remembers the look on his friend's face when the suits gunned him down.

She didn't know the dead boy, she only knew of the impact he had on Bran. But his story has always been in the forefront of her mind when dealing with mirrorshades.

When the man in the white suit finally clears out of the park she has to wonder if she got herself worked up for nothing. She waits by the fence, trying to keep her thoughts busy, to play with Zane, and when Matheson eventually goes his own way, so does she. Leaving Wharil none the wiser (or is he? her presence is not difficult to sense.)

It's after she's reached the outskirts of the park that she calls Chuck, remembering the offer of a ride home. Now, normally this isn't something she'd take him up on. It's not a long walk back, she has a slightly muddy dog with her, and it's rather inconvenient for him. But he offered.

So when his phone rings, he hears a very steady, "Hey, Chuck. The guy cleared out. No trouble."

[Chuck Carmichael] When he emerges, it's in basketball-styled shorts and that shirt that says 'colege' across his chest - just tight enough to show that he works out without being intentional showmanship - and returns to the kitchen to get things out of her way, looking at it a bit helplessly. "I guess this thing makes sausage, or something? And pasta. And the ice cream maker came with a recipe book. That smells fantastic - did you find everything you needed?"

It could be a nicely domestic scene, or they could be roommates used to working around each other. It's neither, in fact, but strangers looking in wouldn't necessarily know that.

"What do you want me to do?" That comes after the boxes full of things Chuck has no idea how to use are moved out of the way. (And the dish Emily found to make dinner in? Obviously new, and of the Emile Henry sort. He knows well how to make friends, the Virtual Adept does.)

[Chuck Carmichael] And then the phone's ringing, and Chuck answers. "Hey, Ash - good, I'm glad. You want that ride?"

[Ashley McGowen] "I..." And there is hesitation. Then again, deciding that she wants company and going after it is not the same as whining, really. Is a good thing, even. "I'll come over to put down your wards, if you guys don't mind me heading to your place. No need to come and pick me up."

[Littleton] It could be many things, and the smile she gives him when he walks back into the room doesn't unmuddy the matter either. There's a dish towel folded and laid over her shoulder. It's already lightly damp, and cool against her skin. Emily's hair is twisted back in a loose knot (but holding!) at the nape of her neck.

"I'll manage," she said, easier now, when he asked if she found what she needed.

"Find some pasta or rice?" she answers, even as he's picking up his phone to take Ashley's call. She can only hear his side of things, and it sounds well enough so far. When she's not stirring dinner, Emily is starting to wash, dry and put away the (silly) appliances he's collected. It's simple work, quiet and unassuming, and she makes decisions about where things will live without his input. He can move them later anyway.

The Kitchen Aide, though, he will have to move himself. Em started to pick it up, then set it right back down with a little frown. Her hand drifted to her lower back for a moment, and she straightened up carefully, then went back to cleaning up the workspace and decidedly not eavesdropping.

[Chuck Carmichael] "We don't mind at all. And I can come pick you up, if you want. But if you're good, we'll just wait for you to get here." There's a smile as he goes to the corner cabinet and turns the lazy susan within until he comes up with a few different kinds of pasta . . . with dusty packaging . . . and offers them to Emily.

[Ashley McGowen] "...Well, I guess if you don't mind Zane. He's kind of muddy, though," she says. Because when it comes to some things, Ashley can be considerate; it's only the smart thing to do, after all. Truth be told at the moment she feels a bit more secure with the dog at her side. Less like she's being followed - or more like he'd notice if she was.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Nah, car can be cleaned. So can my place, if he's coming over here. You still at the park, or am I meeting you at your place?"

[Ashley McGowen] "Ah, just...meet me at my place," she suggests, with a glance down at the dog. Probably for the best not to bring him over to Chuck's.

And the phone call is concluded, and whilst Chuck drives his way over to her apartment, she is walking the short distance back. It's only about a mile, and it can be rather quickly covered in the time it takes him to drive over there. It's enough time to let Zane upstairs so he can sleep (he, after all, has had a long day of playing outside) and it's enough time to change out of her shorts into a pair of jeans.

She's outside the apartment building when Chuck's car arrives, leaning against the brick wall outside and talking with a young man (recognizable as sweatervest boy, who has forsaken his sweatervest for a white cotton buttondown now that the weather is warmer) while he smokes a cigarette.

Chuck's car pulls up and she disengages with a wave, heading over so that she can climb into the passenger's seat and they can make the short trip to his apartment. Ashley, other than the greeting she extends toward the Virtual Adept, is rather quiet. Then again, that isn't so unusual.

[Littleton] She passes over most of the various shapes of pasta he's offered, settling on some ancient orzo. Between this, the can of chicken broth she'd spied in the depths of the cupboard, and some browning spices (thyme, oregano) there was a fragranti pilafi brewing. A little frozen mixed vegetables and a pat of butter -- she could work magic with odds and ends. She'd had to, but that was neither here nor there.

There's another pot on the stove now, another thing to stir. Another simple meditative movement to observe, while Chuck & Ashley figured out the particulars of getting from point A to point B.

Most of his new acquisitons had found homes. Emily had her back to Chuck and was watching the bubble and slow transformation of dinner from her stance beside the range. Her hair slowly unwound from its spiral, but stayed behind her shoulders.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Alright, I'll be there in a few." And so the call ends, leaving him to look at Emily's back briefly (and to move closer and touch lightly, briefly) for a moment before backing off. "I'll be right back - just gonna pick up Ashley. All the remotes are on the coffee table if you want TV or music; just don't mess with my computers."

Because of course there are several.

Then it's off for Ashley, to pick her up and chat at her to fill up space, to bring a smile - Chuck's full of amusing anecdotes and jokes, though he's good enough to recognize if she wants him to shut up so she can [think] get a word in edgewise. He is, as Ashley and Emily both know, a really nice guy. "Em's cooking, if you haven't eaten yet. So it's not even a carryout or hot dogs night." At the condos it's inside and upstairs to his place, where he lets them in, and it smells like Spanish cooking.

[Littleton] By the time they get back, Emily has (unearthed) set Chuck's table with as close to a matching set of dishware as she can find in the bachelor pad. It's set for three, but if they've found a fourth she could get another place setting ready. The two dishes are set out as well, steaming still and with a large spoon tucked into them for serving. Everyone has a glass of water, but she hasn't presumed to set out anything else.

She's still washing up the cooking vessels and setting things aside to dry when they get back. Ashley's place just wasn't that far away.

[Ashley McGowen] "I haven't eaten," she says, remembering that night a few weeks ago. Emily had been cooking something then, too, but dinner had never been realized. Interrupted by...well, let's not think about that. Her physician will be yelling at her about her blood pressure by the time she's thirty as it is.

He cracks jokes and tells stories while they're in the car together, and he's rewarded with the occasional smile. Faint, fleeting things that they are. She doesn't offer many contributions of her own; she seems content to let him talk away while they drive.

Even when they walk into the apartment she doesn't seem to have much to say. Still trying to rebuild a sense of composure, perhaps. Or maybe she just has a lot on her mind and wanted to be around people more than she has something interesting to contribute and offer to them; it's hard to say. Except, "Are you sure you don't want me to trap the door? The charred remains of uninvited guests make for a hell of a conversation piece."

[Littleton] And that's an interesting thing to hear as they come through the door. ... charred remains of uninvited guests... Emily made a mental note to never go by Ashley's (or Chuck's) place unannounced in the future. It might have deleterious effects on her continued survival.

"Dinner's ready," she called from the kitchen, perhaps a bit more warily than she'd intended. "I set for three, in case you're hungry." This was most likely for Ashley, she of the charred remains offerings. Emily finished drying the saucepan and set it on the range to rest.

[Chuck Carmichael] "It'll go better this time," he says by way of reassurance, as if by will (or Technology, or Mathematics) he can make it so. Ashley doesn't get a hand in the small of her back (she's over a foot shorter than Chuck), but she does get that same affability as she always does, as most people do. It's just a feature of the Adept, it would seem, or perhaps his default setting.

And then, to the rest, "Conversation piece, sure, but a certain death for the appetite. I'd rather have my cooking skills - or lack thereof - do that." Again, his shoes come off at the door, and he moves to grab a trio of beers from the fridge (popped open on a TARDIS-shaped bottle opener attached to the wall by the fridge) before settling in at the table.

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley's shoes, too, are pulled off once she's in the doorway, discarded in a pile of red canvas and rubber next to Chuck's. Her stomach growls, rather loudly, when wave of smells that hit them as they walk inside, as though in response to Emily (in case you're hungry). "Always," she says.

Because she's been on her feet for most of the day, she's rather quick to take up a spot at the table, even if Emily isn't quite ready to start serving anything yet. It's a place to rest after chasing the dog around the park, after standing with every muscle tensed. "Sorry I chased you guys out of the park," she says, once she's settled. "There was some worry that the guy Wharil was talking to was a Technocrat, but he left without incident, so I'm inclined to think somebody was just alarmist."

[Littleton] "Help yourself," she says, as she's drying off her hands and heading for the table herself. This brings her past Chuck, and if her hand rests lightly on his side as she moves past, well then that could be easily missed or forgiven.

She slides into a place at the table, leaving Chuck the middle seat, and smiles across the table to Ashley. It's a careful smile, though, what with the guest-burning chat from when they entered.

[Littleton] She'd started to place her napkin in her lap before the word Technocrat hit home in Emily's mind. Then her hands stilled wherever they were, held there in tableau even as her eyes shifted up to seek Ashley's.

Really? That expression said, counterweighted by a healthy measure of concern. After a heartbeat, her hands remembered how to move. The napkin went into her lap. Her shoulders squared as she sat back in the chair and looked from Ashley to Chuck and back.

"Is every one alright?" she asked, her voice a little tighter (concerned [anxious]). "Is that what all the notes were about?" came the next question. And quick upon its heels a little flare of anger (suppressed [noticeable still]) that Nathan had excerpted her from news that grave.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Yeah, I gotta say, the guy was static as all get out, but that doesn't make him a Tech. The . . . what's his name. The quiet one. He was pretty static, too." Chuck shrugs, takes two scoops from each dish and passes one of the serving utensils to each of the girls so that they can serve themselves. "And that's a pretty serious accusation to throw around considering what happened with . . . the kid. Your friend, Em. I can't imagine anyone who knows about that is going to take news of a potential Technocrat being around lightly, or well."

Because Chuck thinks of these things, and [tries to] speak reason and progress when they come up, rather than something less thought out.

"Is that what he's emailing me about, this allegation?"

[Ashley McGowen] "My apprentice," Ashley says when Chuck mentions Emily's friend. Her tone is a little clipped. "Who I've been keeping with me. There are a lot of reasons for Technocrats to show up besides what happened to her."

Someone touched a nerve.

Ashley reaches for the utensils and adds to her own plate - and for someone as small and slight as she is, it's hard to believe she would eat that much. But it's probably not all that surprising. "I think he's emailing you about...the tanker spill that happened last week. He gave me another note that said stuff about Blue Horizon Chemicals." She reaches for the beer that Chuck set on the table and cracks the cap off, giving it a thoughtful look. "I was there at the spill, actually. Lot of strange stuff going on there. Hazmat crews cleaning up acid without masks and protective gear...I did a scan and one of them is definitely skilled with the Ars Mentis. So he might have something I don't."

[Littleton] The quiet one "Owen," Emily supplied the name, easily.

The kid. You're friend, Em. "Enid," she said, and her tone is tighter. Almost as clipped as Ashley's.

Why yes, that's a sore spot. For both of Chuck's guests.

She served herself when the utensils got to her, and kept her head bowed slightly and her eyes lowered while they began to eat. When Ashley explained the context of Nathan's notes, Emily added, "One of my students was there. I've been meaning to check in on them in hospital. I was planning to go over the weekend."

Student, however, was different from Apprentice. There's less a sense of ownership and responsibility -- but it is still there, because Emily is that sort of genuinely warm and concerned person who feels for the frosh in her sections almost as if they were her responsibility. These two don't really know this about her, yet, though they might suspect it somewhat.

[Littleton] ((grammar fail: Your friend, Em.))

[Chuck Carmichael] ".....you're a junior." This is with a crinkled brow - he'd been tutoring as a junior, it's true, but still. He'd been an exceptional case. "Alright, then - I'll want all the information I can get from the both of you, and I'll get crackin'. But not from here - I'd rather not lead people to my house if there somehow manages to be security fail. I mean, I'm pretty damn good at covering my tracks, but even I make mistakes."

Oh, there he is - cocky!Chuck. It's amusing, and annoying, and perhaps a little endearing.

"And of course there are other reasons. Just like there are other reasons to take their appearance poorly. But it's fresh, and she seems to have at least you two who care quite a bit for her, so it stands to reason that you'd take it worse - or more emotionally, at least - than you would if bad stuff hadn't happened recently, you know?"

[Ashley McGowen] Emily mentions her student, and this prompts a sidelong look at Ashley. Some amusement, at the fact that the girl has them and...how old can she be? Twenty? Twenty-one, at most? Then again Ashley herself was an Initiate at that stage, enough to take on a student of her own if there had been one available.

Not quite the same in a college environment though.

Chuck is then turning the topic back to Enid. Food finds its way to Ashley's mouth; she finds it's usually a good way to keep herself from blurting out something tactless. The seconds that she has to take to chew and swallow force her to think, to stave off her gut responses. (Perhaps it's why she likes to meet with people over food or drink most of the time.)

"I'm worried about her, if that's what you mean," Ashley says to Chuck. "If they are even in town. But I have to figure Wharil would have noticed, if there really had been cause for alarm. He picks up on things like that."

[Littleton] Buttons, Chuck! He gets a flatly unamused look from the, yes, Junior co-ed who TAs within her department. One that says, unequivocally, what of it? And then it's on to (pushing) chasing her chickpeas around her plate with her fork, trying to keep any of a dozen things she's thought from escaping the space between her (clenched) teeth.

It burns, though, and it'll take awhile to simmer back down to quiet. (Wounded pride.) The topic turns back to Enid and Emily is quite pointedly, purposefully silent.

[Chuck Carmichael] Chuck is not turning the subject back to Enid, actually - Chuck is picking randomly geeky subjects to fixate on (in this case, the psychology of why people get worked up about various things, actual threat notwithstanding), as is quite common. Sometimes, its his FPSes. Sometimes, it's MMOs, or super old school video games, or some obscure math or computer thing. Tonight, it's something different.

"I just mean that given recent history - and it could have been anyone local, that we know, not necessarily just who it really was - you're going to react differently than you would have otherwise. You're going to be more wary, and quite possibly more likely to jump to the offensive. If something like that had happened to someone close to me and the mirror shades showed up, I would to." Then, though, there's mention of Wharil noticing, and Chuck nods. "I've never talked to him, but if you trust him to notice that kind of thing, I'd lay my money on him being good. Maybe Nathan's just being a jerk. Has he been drinking again?"

[Ashley McGowen] "I don't think so," Ashley says. "Maybe he just saw something that he thought was a clear sign and it wasn't." A shrug, here, while she tries to figure out how to answer the rest of what Chuck said.

"It's one of those things where...I'm sure that they -are- in town, I just don't expect to run into them, I guess. I mean, they haven't really bothered us so far," she says, spearing a bit of chicken on the tines of her fork. "But...you guys are both recently Awakened, Chuck. I woke up just as the War was ending. Almost everybody I knew as an apprentice had an experience like that, and if they're in town I have my doubts that they won't cause trouble."

[Littleton] She's still being quiet (for better or worse), but when Ashley says that she's pretty sure the Technocrats were in town, Emily pauses and sets her fork down for a minute. Thoughtful.

"I thought I heard someone say they'd... had dinner with..." Think, Emily, think. "An Operative? A while back." Her memory wasn't serving very well at the moment, but Emily offered it up to the others. If she thought more about it, she would probably pin the comment on Nathan -- whether it had been him or not. It seemed like something Nathan would have told her; it fit in the vein of all of their previous conversations, at least.

But that was it. Nothing more offered, no quips or friendly banter. She ate her portion, sipped at her water, and left the beer untouched.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Not that recently for me, actually. But I was picked and guided, and it was slow. Painfully so at times, I tell you - I certainly wasn't always the model of patience and humility," it's amused, of course, though Emily's getting a thoughtful look, "that you see before you today. And I wasn't anywhere near any front lines. So, while I have known people who got caught and disappeared . . ."

He shrugs, scoops up a last bite of delicious dinner and eats it, then sips his beer.

". . . I don't know, it was a long time ago. Last I heard, they mostly thought of us as a joke. Unstable and unpredictable, but also incompetent and scattered. It's an opinion I don't mind fostering, actually, at least where they're concerned. Let them underestimate me."

[Chuck Carmichael] Under the table, a light pressure of knee against knee. Sorry, it says.
to Littleton

[Ashley McGowen] "My old cabal mates," Ashley says, after she's washed a mouthful down with the beer that Chuck has on the table, "kept fighting the War. I helped them, but I'm not really a soldier. They lost...a couple of remote bases because of us in Europe."

She doesn't tell them this in clinical tones, but she skims over it. Glosses. Because regardless of the opinions they may all hold on the Technocracy, killing Technocrats and rigging their labs to explode is not polite dinner conversation. "I doubt they'll find me, but if they did, they would have a lot of reasons to make sure I happened to fall down some stairs or whatever. So yeah. I am sort of concerned, even if you disregard what might happen to Enid if they're making a comeback and learn that she's here."

[Littleton] ((... you don't have any idea... WP, dif 6))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 4, 6, 6, 7, 9 (Success x 4 at target 6)
to Chuck Carmichael

[Littleton] Chuck sits back; he's finished, that posture says. That's what the utensils say, laid out as they are. Emily knows these things. She's spent too much time at Embassy dinners. And it gives her an excuse to gather their plates, to slip away from the table to take them to the kitchen. The serving dishes remain, in case Ashley wants seconds.

It gives her a ready reason not to answer Chuck's subtle, unvoiced (hidden) advance. And it takes her out of the circle of conversation for a moment. Long enough to wash two plates and two sets of utensils, long enough to let her own thoughts calm and quiet.

When they're resting on a dish towel to dry, she'll come back to her seat. Water glass and beer remaining, and be more composed. But she knows next to nothing of The War, so it's hands folded in her lap and politely listening to political stories time as far as she's concerned.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Viruses. Back doors. Root kits. Surveillance - that's what most of the team I worked with did. I covered our asses. I could do the rest, but no one had security skills like I did. It's what I studied," he says with a shrug. "Was studying at the time. I'm probably on some lists."

As another name, another life, but he doesn't share that part; no one here knows that. Hell, only one person in Aurora'd known it. And the people who'd known him then, before? Most of them never met him fact to face. They know his old SN, the ones that're still around.

"Anyway, yes, I'm not disagreeing that it's trouble waiting to happen - I'm just saying we should use everything at our disposal to find out what we're up against before we assume they're here to condition us all or something. Maybe there's something they know about that we don't, and they'll be our red shirts - unintentionally, I'm sure, but no less effective for it. Regardless, anything you know about who's here would be helpful - I'll see if I can find anything about the assignment while I'm poking around about this Blue Sun stuff."

[Littleton] ((Still mad? WP, dif 7))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 5, 6, 10, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
to Chuck Carmichael

[Ashley McGowen] "Blue Horizon," Ashley corrects him, mouth quirking into a smile as she notes his error. "Blue Sun is Firefly." She's possibly just outed herself as knowing...well, some things about science fiction, but she doesn't really dwell on the topic.

"That's a good point, though. See if they can dig up anything new for us, I suppose," she says, with another look toward the Virtual Adept. It's a bit more calculating than she would have given him credit for being, but then again, he is a mage. That implies certain things about his personality, about who he is, just that simple fact.

"Either way. I'll just pass it along to Wharil, make sure he knows, and hopefully we won't hear from them. Enough other things going on to worry about." She hasn't gone to get anything else; maybe she's just being polite, maybe she's actually full (don't bet on it.) Either way, she sips at the beer thoughtfully and says little else.

[Littleton] She's still irritated, but it's fading. This conversation is a particular brand of enlightening, one where you discover strengths in your allies you might not have found otherwise. Or noticed if you were, say, too busy being slighted about some incidental comment. As such, Emily has less and less reason to hold onto her annoyance and more to listen keenly.

Her fingertips play with the neck of her beer bottle, but she doesn't drink from it. Not just yet. Condensation beads up on the exterior, rolls down to the table top and begins to form a loose ring to be wiped away later.

She's still quiet, but perhaps only because she has nothing to contribute. It's less purposeful and directed, and easing towards more respectful.

[Chuck Carmichael] ".....Ashley. You know about Firefly?" It's mock shock, clearly teasing, and glosses nicely over any calculating callousness he may have just exhibited - because it's Chuck. Bumbling, amiable, affable Chuck. Of course he doesn't think of things in that way, doesn't set up dominoes to watch them fall, isn't a Risk champion. No way, not Chuck.

Of course not.
[No, really. These are not the droids you're looking for.]

"The more information I start with, the easier my job. I mean, I can start with nothing, but that'll take a lot longer, obviously. So, anyone has anything, even the smallest, most inconsequential detail, I want it. And if talking needs to be done, it should probably be me who does it. I've faked my way through that kind of thing before."

Again, it's some new thing that sticks out, seems at odds with what they know about him, and yet makes perfect sense at the same time.

[Littleton] ((Over it yet?, dif 8))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 2, 4, 5, 9 (Success x 1 at target 8)
to Chuck Carmichael

[Littleton] "Does that mean you want to to hospital with me?" Emily asks, arching an eyebrow as she looks across the table to Chuck and finally makes eye contact. (Testing, testing [One, two, three..]). Her expression is somewhat guarded, distant. Not the warm and affable familiarity of early, or the comfortable casual contact from their ride home. It's almost politically reserved.

[Littleton] ((edit: to *go to))

[Ashley McGowen] "You know pretty much everything that I know," Ashley tells him, "except that one of the guys kept repeating 'chimera' in the back of his thoughts. Just sort of...laid over them. I was going to keep prodding but he realized I was there, so I got out."

She falls back to drinking, watching the two, realizing that Chuck will probably go with Emily. It's all well and good, an apprentice should have someone with her if a situation is potentially worrisome.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Yeah, I'll go with you, pick up what I can. And I'll check around, I guess, see who else is looking into this. Riley might be, and goodness only knows what Nathan's got. We need to set up a wave or something," he says, wry, but still somehow serious. He talks about crazy levels of security that lots of people find incomprehensible, as far as internet stuff goes, and then talks of waves. Which are . . . not what most people would consider secure. "A think tank of some sort, anyway. It'd be more efficient, and people can figure out what they or their cabals are best at, and which angle to approach from, so work doesn't get duplicated. The more we work together, the less likely we are to get caught."

[Chuck Carmichael] And again, under the table, light pressure of knee against knee. Forgive me?
to Littleton

[Littleton] ((Maaaaaaaybe], dif 9))
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 4, 5, 6, 8 (Botch x 1 at target 9)
to Chuck Carmichael

[Littleton] Emily shifts the way she's sitting. Her hands fall away from the plane of the table, beneath it. One rests on the side of her seat, the other reaches down to return the light pressure (forgiven), query, that Ashley cannot see-- but might assume occurs in one fashion or another.

She's rounded her shoulders (smaller [tired] something) and Emily is pensive, and still quiet. Damnably quiet. There's not too much to say beyond, "Okay. I'll ring you before I head over." (Tacit agreement.)

Then she lifts her hand to cover her mouth (stifle a yawn). After which it passes on to run her fingers through her hair, shake out of few tangles.

"I should put the leftovers away and head home. It's gotten late," she says, in that half-hearted way of observation that is more about running out of things to say than any point in particular. That much said, Emily starts to gather the remind of the dinner things, go about the quiet process of tidying up.

Her beer is where she'd left it, still full and streaming condensation as it comes closer to room temperature. She didn't drink any of it.

[Littleton] ((edit: remind = remainder))

[Ashley McGowen] Ashley is not yawning. She's tired, it's evidenced in how she's slumped a little over the table, gradually working her way toward resting her chin in her hand or her head in her arms. But the two of them have probably never seen her when she -wasn't- tired: the more relaxed, detached Ashley is months in the past. Chances are the beer isn't helping.

"I should go home too," she says. "Thanks for feeding me. If I get any new information about Technocrats or Blue Horizon stuff I'll make sure I let you guys know."

[Chuck Carmichael] "I'll give you both rides. No arguments," he says, and helps clean up (it is his house, after all, and Em cooked - she should hardly have to clean, too) and does just that - Ashley first, then Em, then back home. Because of course he's not letting them go off on their own - strong and perfectly capable or not.